


don't throw me away

by fruti2flutie



Category: GFriend (Band), UP10TION
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6417559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruti2flutie/pseuds/fruti2flutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years. Thirty minutes. Two months. How long does it take to fall in love (again)?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> #281 from my creative writing prompt packet aka stuck in an elevator w/ the one that got away au
> 
> i'm actually dead inside bc this might be my fav work & i know its going to get the least recognition lmao bye idk what im doing w/ my life but i recently learned that kuhngyeol turned into an otp??? who wouldve thought
> 
> [title taken from "dito" by up10tion. its also my fav]

Normally, Minsoo takes the stairs down to the lobby to get to the university. He never carries much under his arms, resorting to messenger bags or coat pockets to hold his stuff. The descent helps work out his calves, too, which is nice for his bare-minimum workout regimen. From floor seven to one it takes about three minutes for him to get down, on average, walking with light and careful steps.

But today feels like a shitty Saturday. It starts off with Minsoo waking up too fucking early, blankets fallen to the ground and body several degrees below healthy. He had forgotten to close his window last night, after a steaming session of _Mario Party 8_ with friends, so his entire apartment is freezing cold — and he had made the mistake of wearing nothing but boxers to sleep. He’s sneezing for half the morning, eventually running out of tissues to alleviate his burning nose. And, worst of all, he accidentally pours the milk before his cereal. Oh, the tragedy.

Minsoo’s shift at the library starts at ten o’clock sharp, which is in a little less than an hour. He finishes up breakfast (with half his cornflakes floating out of the bowl) and freshens up. He had ironed out a new powder blue button-down yesterday, but Changhyun had somehow managed to spill half a bottle of cola on it while he was looking for batteries for the Wii remotes. Disappointed, Minsoo picks out an old button-down from his closet and pairs it with a sweater vest. (Wooseok always criticizes him for his retro fashion sense, but Minsoo likes what he likes.) After he finishes, he packs his bag with schoolwork and snacks, shrugs on his navy coat, and heads out the door.

The winter weather had been more accurate than usual last night, snowing enough to stick. There are wet tracks on the ground, yellow caution signs propped around every corner. Minsoo stares at his Converse, grip virtually nonexistent, and knows that if he takes one step onto the stairwell he’s bound to go tumbling.

A spur of the moment decision, Minsoo goes in the opposite direction and presses the down arrow for the elevator. “I might as well get reacquainted,” he says, listening to the mechanical whirring and watching the digital sign change numbers, depending what floor the elevator is on. It’s shoddy at best, a moving safety hazard at worst. The time it takes to get to a single floor is enough to take the stairs from third to first. Minsoo isn’t in a rush right now, so he can deal with the wait.

When the doors open, Minsoo leisurely steps inside. There’s only one other person inside, hat and hood over his head. He has those over the top headphones covering his ears, loud and bold in color and sound, which make Minsoo wince. _So much for soothing elevator music_ , he thinks. The button for the lobby is already pressed, so Minsoo leans against one of the walls and watches the doors close.

 _Six_. The man takes out his phone, which is connected to his headphones. The black case with silver studs and stars reminds Minsoo of an old friend — the crescent moon keychain jingles from the top of the phone. The nostalgia hits Minsoo like a compacted snowball, ruthless and abrupt, and his skin feels icy again.

 _Five_. The way he holds his phone is the same, angling his wrist around to cover the bottom. Not like Minsoo, who tends to grip his phone precariously by the pads of his fingers. Minsoo wonders what color his hair is, under that cap. He wonders if he’s changed as much as Minsoo has, and Minsoo wishes the elevator would go faster. Minsoo can see that he’s taller now, as well, but not as tall as Minsoo has grown, and it’s enough for him to suck in a breath.

 _Four_. The man looks up at the changing floor number, and inevitably his gaze falls on Minsoo standing at the other end of the cart. He looks exactly as Minsoo remembers: bright eyes full of optimism and lopsided smile. Swiftly, he slips his headphones down onto his neck and takes a step forward.

“Minsoo?”

All of a sudden the elevator lurches to a stop, shaking the ground and causing Minsoo to stumble. The lights are cut off for a few seconds, the world pitch black, until the red emergency light comes on.

“What was that?” Sooil murmurs, and his voice rings deep and familiar in Minsoo’s ears. Barely anything about him has changed on the outside, but Minsoo doesn’t know if he’s the same next door neighbor from grade school whom he once knew.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Go Minsoo is fifteen when he learns love is hard on the knees. Bruises and scars are constant reminders to him, along with the first aid kit that has since tucked itself in his backpack.

There isn’t much to his life, which revolves solely around family, friends, and basketball. He works hard in school, ranking in the top fifty of his class, but never going above and beyond to achieve greater. His friends study harder than he does. The only thing that he pushes himself for greatness in is basketball.

Routinely on the starting lineup, Minsoo is typically the center or sometimes the power forward on the court. After trying out last year he’s become one of the tallest on his team, but that doesn’t make him the best. The captain, by far, is the most versatile player that Minsoo has ever seen. An upperclassman, polite, the captain ruffles his head whenever Minsoo says he’ll be better than him one day. The practices are every day after school, for two hours on the weekends, during late summer until late winter. The tiresome work makes Minsoo’s muscles ache, but the improvement he shows is more satisfying than anything.

This year the basketball team gets the closest it’s ever gotten to regionals, but the opposing team has a stronger offense than them, chalking up a final score of 51-60. The captain, who’s in his final year, cries as the team bows to their audience. Everyone regrets something — Minsoo could’ve blocked more shots or passed the ball quicker. The season ends in February, right when the snow stops falling.

The day after the game, Sooil comes to his house and comforts him with a tub of ice cream and an old rom-com movie. Minsoo answers the door in his pajamas, having just woken up, and laughs when he sees Sooil wearing his striped PJs, too. Sooil barges past Minsoo and heads straight to his room. In his bedroom he turns on the TV, puts in the movie, and hops on Minsoo’s bed.

“What?” Sooil says, wrapping himself in Minsoo’s blanket. “I heard you lost, so I’m here to make you feel better.” He holds out the silver spoon, holding the other in his mouth. “Vanilla-flavored, because you’re boring.”

“Thanks, jerk.”

“That’s jerk _hyung_ , excuse you,” Sooil scolds. “Get over here and let me assess the damage. I need to bandage your boo-boos.”

No Sooil, half a year older and a quarter of a head taller than Minsoo, has been his neighbor since they moved in two summers ago. Friendly, charming, humorous, a natural-born leader, and everything else a mother could want in a son. He’s vice president of his class, which is also the most advanced, and vice president of the drama club, well-liked and well-rounded. It was definitely a surprise when he reached out to Minsoo first and asked, pearly white smile shining, “Are you new here?”

Ever since then, they became inseparable. Minsoo comes over to Sooil’s house to watch the elder practice lines from a script; Sooil comes over to Minsoo’s house to watch the younger boy practice free throws. At school, during lunch, they sit with their own friends from class, but they make sure to share a high-five whenever they passed each other in the hallways. And, being neighbors, the two of them walk to school and home together on a regular basis, too.

The thing is, Minsoo doesn’t fall immediately — the process is gradual, losing balance and tripping for months. When he falls, he sees Sooil outstretching his arms for Minsoo to fit into. When he falls, his fingers are being wrapped in gauze by gentle hands. When he falls, Sooil feeds him a giant spoonful of vanilla ice cream, singing softly in his ear, “To me, you’re the best.”

When Minsoo falls, he doesn’t try to get back up.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Sooil plops himself on the ground, knocking his head against the wall as his music continues on faintly in the background. “So I guess we’re stuck in here, huh.”

Holding his cell phone high above his head, Minsoo nods. “Looks like it,” he sighs. “My phone isn’t getting any service.”

“At least we have light,” Sooil says, pointing to the red light that shines on him and Minsoo. “A little too tinted for my tastes, but it’s something.”

Minsoo laughs. Strange how easy it is to fall back into habit, even after all these years. Sooil’s humor hits him in all the right places, observational and lighthearted. There is a minor aloofness to his demeanor, now, that is foreign to Minsoo. Like he feels the rift between them that Minsoo so desperately wedged so long ago.

“We’ve been in here for nearly five minutes,” announces Minsoo. He rests his back against the elevator wall, staring forlornly at his phone screen as another minute is lost.

“I don’t think maintenance here pays enough attention to get us out. This is a pretty old-fashioned building,” mutters Sooil, rubbing his chin. He takes off his cap, and even in this red-stained light Minsoo can tell that Sooil’s hair is several shades lighter than it had been in high school (then again, so is Minsoo’s). “Is anyone waiting for you?” he asks, picking at the hem of his shirt.

Minsoo checks the clock on his phone once more. “My shift at the library starts in thirty-five minutes,” he says. “So no, not particularly.”

“You work at the library? Of the university?” Sooil sounds surprised as he asks.

“I started last month,” proclaims Minsoo. He sits down, crossing his legs. “The job isn’t hard, plus I get to study when there aren’t that many people around. It helps to have a little bit extra cash.”

Sooil inquires, no harm intended, “What’s your major?”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

After he packs up his shoes and ball, Minsoo hoists his duffle bag over his shoulder. He and Sooil had played a couple rounds of basketball in the school’s gym, for extra summer practice, and Minsoo had wiped the floor with Sooil. Sooil is athletic and strong, but his skills are lacking. There’s a shower of sweat coming from his pores, as he cools down on the bleachers, and Minsoo throws him the towel he packed especially for the god of sweat.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?” Minsoo asks, drinking from his water bottle and then passing it to Sooil.

Sooil takes a large swig and hums. “Well, I don’t know about _you_ , but I’m really feeling kimchi fried rice with a side of—”

“Hyung,” laughs Minsoo, hitting his arm. “I’m being serious! After _high school_.”

Sooil grins. Then, expression instantaneously going serious, he props one leg onto the bleachers and pinches the space between his eyes, puffing out his chest and flipping his hair upwards. “A model,” he gushes dramatically.

“That’s the opposite of serious,” deadpans Minsoo, but he ends up laughing at the outlandish poses anyway.

“What about you, hm? What are you gonna do?” Sooil counters, resuming a normal position. Minsoo sits beside him, and Sooil automatically throws an arm around his shoulders. “A big name basketball star in America by day, goody-goody Korean son by night?”

“I don’t think so,” Minsoo says, embarrassed. “I’m not _that_ good.”

Sooil frowns, and he rattles Minsoo back and forth. “You _are_ ,” he insists, but Minsoo shakes his head. Sooil clucks his tongue. “Try harder. Practice more. Believe in yourself, man. You can run to the stars and back, if you really want to. I know you can.” He grins. “Bring me a souvenir from the galaxy.”

Minsoo’s cheeks heat up, and he smiles widely in hopes of concealing it. “Okay. Maybe not the NBA, but something more realistic,” he says. He nudges Sooil. “Your turn.”

“Me? Of course I want to be an actor,” Sooil proclaims proudly. “I live and breathe the performing arts — twenty-four seven, seven days a week.”

“If you sneeze, instead of snot will a line of Hamlet come out?” Minsoo teases.

Sooil pulls Minsoo, who’s still snickering, into an unforgiving headlock. “Personally, I like Macbeth better,” he declares as Minsoo squirms. “ _Double, double, toil and_ —” Minsoo escapes his hold, hopping to his feet and sprinting across the gym. “Yah! Get back here! I’m not finished with you!”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“Biology. I want to become a physical therapist,” answers Minsoo. There are textbooks in his room, highlighter marks and sticky notes abundant, and all the notebooks he needs are currently in his bag. Sungjun and Wooseok are always asking for massages, but Minsoo has to tell them that’s not the only thing a therapist knows how to do. Sometimes, when they treat him well enough, he’ll help them release some tension in their shoulders. “And you? What’re you majoring in?”

“Performing arts,” Sooil declares.

Minsoo ‘ooh’s and says, “You’re doing exactly what you wanted — that’s awesome.”

“My focus isn’t actually acting,” admits Sooil. He stretches his fingers out in front of him, bandages wrapped around three of the digits. The fingers flutter rhythmically, and then he clenches them into fists. “Piano,” he says softly, “and a bit of singing.”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“Play me a song, hyung,” Minsoo requests.

There’s an upright piano in Sooil’s living room, binders next to the seat filled with traditional and contemporary sheet music. When Sooil practices Minsoo sits to his right, moving away when Sooil needs to play a higher octave. Sooil doesn’t have a teacher, nor does he take lessons. Entirely self-taught, whenever he plays Minsoo grows more and more amazed at his raw talent. On rainy days like these, hearing Sooil play a few notes makes Minsoo’s heart pound twice as fast.

Sooil sets his fingertips atop the white keys, plays a major chord, and asks, “What song?”

“Three Bears,” Minsoo says, unable to hold down his dimpled grin.

“You wish is my command,” Sooil declares regally, and he plays the children’s tune with such gusto and grace one would believe he was playing in a symphony — extra sixteenth notes, putting in some pedal action, and even singing a few bars in an opera-like style. Minsoo is giggling the whole time, but he’s still impressed at how well Sooil is performing.

Goofy Sooil is the best Sooil, and after he finishes the piece, pressing down complementary chords with fiery intensity, Minsoo applauds. “Bravo! Encore!” he exclaims happily. He gives Sooil a solid thumbs-up. “Amazing, as always.”

Sooil gives a satisfied bow of the head. “And my next song will be by the greatest composer of our time—” He closes his eyes and announces, full of emotion, “—Taeyang of Big Bang.”

“ _Wedding Dress_?” Minsoo guesses.

“Bingo.”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Minsoo asks, “How’s that going for you?”

“It takes a lot of practice,” Sooil says, sighing. “I really enjoy it, though. I’m composing. And I’ve played a couple venues, for fun, and people really seem to like me.”

“How could they not,” murmurs Minsoo, under his breath, but Sooil still hears him as clear as day.

Chuckling, Sooil runs a hand through his hair and says, “You’re flattering me, Minsoo, and that’ll get you nowhere.” He points a finger at him, mildly accusing, “Hell, you haven’t seen me play in years.”

“But I remember,” reveals Minsoo, a little regrettably. Sooil gazes at him, expression touched, and Minsoo is hit with the crashing wave of unrequited and unfulfilled love for this man he hasn’t seen in years. He stares up at the ceiling and tries to change the subject: “So, do you live in this building?”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“I’m off,” Jinwook announces, full lips stretched into a cheerful smile, grabbing his backpack and going to the door.

Sooil, being the courteous host, scrambles to lead him out as Minsoo cleans up the table, where empty bowls of ice cream and cups of cola cover the surface. Jinwook is in the same class as Minsoo, the class president and a sweetheart. Every now and then he’ll come over to Sooil’s house for homework help. Normally he visits on the weekends, but an upcoming chemistry test had been bugging him so much he came over on a Thursday. Minsoo, on the other hand, is at Sooil’s house every other day (because Sooil’s dad makes the _best_ kimchi stew).

“You sure you don’t wanna stay over?” asks Sooil. “The sun is setting pretty quick.”

Jinwook shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll drive home.” He waves his hand as he holds up his car keys. “Goodnight, you two.” The door shuts behind him, and only Sooil and Minsoo are left in the living room. Upstairs, Sooil’s parents are already sleeping.

“Go grab your blankets,” commands Sooil, patting Minsoo on the back as he goes to help clean.

Typically, Minsoo takes the longest couch to sleep on. It’s reserved for him, but today Minsoo feels braver. Like a sheep turned lion, he’s found some courage. “Hyung,” he says, biting his lip. “Is it okay if we just share your bed? I mean— It’s easier than grabbing all the extra blankets.” He rubs his upper arm and chuckles anxiously. “Plus the couch makes me sore in the morning.”

Sooil’s hands pause as he picks up a bowl. “Sure,” he says, straightening up and nodding. “Give me a second to hide the dead body in my room first.”

Minsoo rolls his eyes. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“But you did,” Sooil remarks smoothly, “so you are a witness to my crime.” He ruffles Minsoo’s hair affectionately as he heads towards the stairs. “We can be cellmates in prison!”

“I’d take the death penalty rather than that!” laughs Minsoo. He finishes putting the dishes away and climbs up the stairs, barging into Sooil’s room and nuzzling the sheets. “Although your choice of bedding _is_ wonderful.”

Ruthlessly, Sooil drags him out and to the bathroom so they can both wash up before bed. Minsoo has a spare toothbrush here, placed in the same holder as Sooil’s. They brush their teeth together, and as Minsoo rinses his mouth Sooil threatens to spit the toothpaste foam onto Minsoo’s hand if he doesn’t stop hogging the sink. Minsoo sticks his tongue out at him, and he darts away to avoid pompous Sooil germs.

In Sooil’s room, Sooil and Minsoo’s uniforms are set out for tomorrow, hung in the closet side-by-side. After Sooil shuts off the lights Minsoo climbs into bed, where it’s warm and snug under the blanket. Sooil sets an alarm on his phone, which jingles with the moon charm Minsoo had gifted to him on his birthday, and soon joins Minsoo, pulling the sheet over both of their shoulders. Minsoo stares at Sooil’s fingers, eyes heavy, and wonders if they’d take his hand if he asked.

“What’s wrong?” Sooil murmurs, lightly pinching Minsoo’s cheek.

“Nothing,” whispers Minsoo. He yawns. “Tired.”

Sooil smooths down Minsoo’s hair and hums soothingly, letting his eyelids fall closed as he mumbles, “Then go to sleep. I’ll eat your breakfast if you don’t wake up early enough.”

Minsoo smiles. “Mm.”

After Sooil falls asleep, chest rising and falling evenly, Minsoo carefully traces the lines of Sooil’s face, ghosting his touch across the heated skin. Sooil is a deep sleeper, groggy once awoken, but tranquil as he chases his dreams. Minsoo has always admired how charming his friend is, and sometimes jokes to himself that God gave Sooil everything and left him with nothing.

But Minsoo has Sooil, on this starry night, bringing him into his arms and giving him another place to call home.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“Sort of,” Sooil says, rubbing his hands together. “One of my friends lives here, and since he lives so close to the university I crash at his place a lot. He’s a performing arts major, too, but he’s focusing on piano as well as dance.”

Immediately, a face pops into Minsoo’s mind: square mouth and drooping eyes, a green tint to his hair. “Could it possibly be—” He pauses for dramatic effect, “—Lee Changhyun, who has a snapback permanently glued to his head?”

Sooil’s eyes widen comically and he proceeds into a slow clap. “Incredible,” he marvels. “What a small world we live in! Isn’t that something?” He scoots closer to Minsoo, until they’re almost touching shoulders against the wall. “How did you two meet?”

“Mutual friends,” blurts Minsoo, which is a giant lie that he doesn’t know how to recover from.

The true story comes from Minsoo’s first college party, where one of his female classmates had invited him in hopes of getting in his pants. The attempt was a total failure, because Minsoo had learned he was a) not good at holding his liquor and b) a very emotional drunk. Minsoo had latched onto a small group of chic partygoers and cried about his first love, waving his red Solo cup as he compared Sooil to the sun, moon, _and_ stars. Of the group Kim Wooseok (who is the second most beautiful person on earth) took pity on him and helped him to his own apartment, where several of his more sober friends helped comfort him. Changhyun, Yein, and by extension Sungjun had been supportive in the whole mess, and all of them have been great friends ever since.

“You know, he looks so fierce, but in actuality he’s a giant teddy bear,” adds Sooil. “I thought he would scold me for getting my part wrong in our group assignment, but he had this happy-go-lucky attitude and said it was fine. Such a sweet guy.”

Minsoo laughs, “Sounds like him.” He cranes his neck to look at Sooil and recounts, “We had a game night yesterday, and he was so excited after he won the minigames. The most obscure ones, too! And when Gyujin beat him—” He fumbles for the right words, but settles for a few bubbles of laughter. “Let’s just say there were a lot of mixed feelings.”

Grinning, Sooil says, “I was wondering why he came back so late...”

Sooil chuckles, and then he quietly goes back to fiddling with his shirt. He looks bothered by something. (Minsoo has to resist the urge to feel his forehead and check for a fever.) He glances at Minsoo, eyebrows pinched. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

Voice barely there, uneasy and doubtful, Sooil asks with an empty smile, “What happened to us?”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Minsoo’s handwriting is pretty average. The characters are neat and legible, and the script is hard to differentiate from others, as far as he can tell.

So, on a restless Tuesday night, he decides to write a letter. Nothing fancy — on plain notebook paper in black ink. It takes up half the page, letters wide, asking for Sooil to meet him on the rooftop during lunch break. Minsoo doesn’t include his own name in the end note, not having enough confidence to do so.

At any angle, anyone could easily tell that this is a confession letter. And it is. Almost. There are no hearts or direct “I like you”s, only a straightforward direction with little room for error. But it’s a confession letter, no doubt about it, Minsoo’s unspoken feelings hidden behind cryptic words on the flimsy sheet of paper.

This year is Minsoo and Sooil’s last in high school. They’re already halfway through it, and in the next few weeks basketball season will start up again. As the time they’ve spent together has flown by, Minsoo had thought he could live without saying a single thing to Sooil about how he truly feels. But it’s absolutely _painful_. There have been too many times where he’d wanted to take Sooil’s hand while they walk across an intersection, to pull Sooil towards him and rest in his embrace, to kiss Sooil’s sly lips and say, “I love who you are and how you make me feel.”

The solution to Minsoo’s problem is, apparently, to get shot down. Confessing to Sooil won’t make him acquire these feelings, too. Minsoo is fine with rejection. He hopes that the confession will take the burdening weight off his chest. When Sooil tells him they can’t be a couple, he’s out of Minsoo’s league, boys aren’t like girls, everything can go back to normal. Minsoo won’t be in love anymore, and Sooil can just be his best friend who lives next door. Simple and clean.

In the morning, Minsoo texts Sooil that he’s leaving first to talk to the homeroom teacher. When he gets to the school, he finds Sooil’s classroom and slips the letter into his locker. He finds Sooil’s desk near the front of the room, sits in the chair, and puts down his head. There are small doodles on the wood, whimsical products of Sooil’s boredom. Minsoo wonders what goes through Sooil’s head, and if Sooil thinks about him as much as Minsoo does.

“I’m horrible,” he sighs. Right then, a girl comes into the room, and Minsoo scurries to bow and leave.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“What are you even asking? We— We drifted,” stammers Minsoo. He tries to ignore Sooil’s burning gaze, but it’s difficult. “That’s not abnormal. Lots of close friends lose touch in their youth; it can’t be helped.”

Sooil scoffs, “We were in our _teens_ , Minsoo. We weren’t that young. Is that what you really think happened? Bullshit. I don’t think I can believe you.”

“Hey—”

“Was it something I did?” asks Sooil, concerned. “Minsoo, you stopped talking to me. You stopped wanting to hang out, and you never told me why. You just... did.” He looks down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Ever since I saw you in the library a few weeks ago—”

“You saw me?” Minsoo whispers. _Were you looking_? He hates how much hope there is in his words. He hates it.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

November means high winds and low temperatures. Such conditions are heightened on the roof, and Minsoo is glad he’d grabbed his coat before coming outside. Thankfully no one else is here (because no one is out of their mind, unlike Minsoo) and Minsoo can be alone to simmer with his thoughts, staring at the students playing soccer down below.

What if Sooil doesn’t come? Sooil mentions getting confession letters every other week, and only a handful of them he goes out to listen to. He declines every time, but he does it in such a manner that a girl can’t help but adore. The ones he responds to are more heartfelt and sincere, while the ones he dismisses are the curt and “boring” letters. What if Minsoo’s gets lost in the latter pile? What if Minsoo isn’t able to take this chance?

“Ugh,” he grumbles, rubbing his face with his hands. He hears the door creak open, and on instinct he scrambles to hide behind a wall, successfully concealing himself from the newcomer. His actions confuse himself, however. “What am I _doing_ ,” he mutters, peeking out.

The person who’d come out is not Sooil. Minsoo recognizes her as the vice president of Sooil’s class, however, whom he almost ran into this morning. Hair falling over her shoulders, she’s tall and beautiful — like the type of girl who comes straight out of a magazine. Her name escapes Minsoo, but he knows that Sooil has mentioned her a few times.

A few moments later the door opens again, and out comes Sooil. Minsoo’s head perks up, but his friend walks straight to the vice president and doesn’t see Minsoo. They engage in a conversation Minsoo is unable to overhear, due to the loud winds, but he watches as their expressions change from amused to flustered to — oh, she’s confessing.

Minsoo wants to run out and scream, tell them that he’s here, too, but he can’t. Sooil is looking at her differently, smiling and ducking his head shyly. Minsoo’s heart feels like a ball of lead in his chest, yet he’s unable to keep his eyes away from the scene. They look good together: handsome and pretty, legs long and tall enough to resemble legitimate models. After they leave Minsoo waits a few minutes, enduring the frigid air for another moment, before returning to his classroom.

Jinwook sees him enter and frowns when Minsoo slumps at his desk, which is behind his own. “Where have you been?” he questions.

“Space,” says Minsoo, with zero bite or playfulness. Jinwook doesn’t reply, but he places a package of chocolate bread on Minsoo’s desk before class can begin again and gives him a consoling pat on the shoulder.

At the end of the day, Minsoo grabs his belongings and walks out of the school. Sooil waits for him at the gate, like always, but he’s radiating happiness that is draining more than anything else to Minsoo. Sooil doesn’t notice Minsoo’s dampened mood as he latches his arm around Minsoo’s neck and laughs in his ear.

“Guess what happened today? Come on, guess!” he exclaims, jostling Minsoo’s whole body with every word.

Elusively, Minsoo ducks out from under Sooil’s arm. “Something good?” he says, only slightly strained, feigning a smile. He thinks he pretends well, compared to how heartbroken he actually feels.

Sooil spreads his arms out and twirls in a circle, shouting, “Something _great_!”

“Free milk?” chuckles Minsoo, and that ache in his chest isn’t going away.

“No, no, no,” tuts Sooil, waggling his finger. “Your beloved Sooil hyung has landed himself a gorgeous, smart, funny, lovely—”

Minsoo lets the word escape past his lips, where he’d locked it tight to prevent it from becoming real, “Girlfriend?”

Sooil almost trips over his feet. “How’d you know?” he asks, grin faltering.

“I got lucky.” Minsoo shrugs, nonchalant, and he wonders if Sooil can tell how hard it is for him to keep his lips upturned. “Let’s go home, okay?”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“Of course,” Sooil says, and maybe the tint of his cheeks is the red emergency light playing tricks on Minsoo. “Your hair is different. Not as different as mine, but it caught my eye.” He laughs, bitter, and Minsoo wants to reach out and hug him. “And you were my best friend, Minsoo. I know you.”

“Sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to—” Minsoo bites his tongue. Calling Sooil by that honorific brings back so many fond memories; it’s so overwhelming he has to stop himself. Why does he need to apologize? What does he have to apologize for?

“You— You made me sad,” Sooil admits, and Minsoo feels the guilt weigh down his heart. “I wanted to go and talk to you, but... you kicked me out back then. I didn’t know whether or not you would let me back in.”

“Sooil hyung,” Minsoo says, trying again. “I’m so sorry, for everything.” He worries his lower lip. “Can I make it up to you somehow? Having you in my life—” He bites harder, almost breaking the skin. “You were my best friend.”

Quietly, Sooil raises his head and mutters, “Tell me...” He runs his fingers through his hair, exhaling through his nose. “Why?”

“Your way with words is astounding,” jokes Minsoo, trying to lighten the mood. He hears Sooil laugh, genuine, and hears his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “If I tell you, I’m scared you’re going to leave again.”

“Again?”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

There isn’t enough time in the world for Minsoo. Wake up, go to school, attend basketball practice, do homework, practice basketball individually, go to sleep. And, lately, Sooil isn’t a part of any of that. Minsoo can’t tell if he’s relieved or disappointed.

On most occasions, Sooil is with his girlfriend. They hang out almost every day, and even more so on the weekends. Sooil texts Minsoo about their dates, not deterred when Minsoo fails to reply. The couple goes to the park, movie theater, or cafe — places where dates are no less than common. Sometimes Sooil sends pictures of flattering couple shots or matching coffee mugs, romantic keepsakes captured in the moment. Minsoo turns off his phone more often now.

Sooil’s girlfriend’s name is Kim Sojung. She’s younger than him by a month, fair in skin and personality. She’s a member of the cooking club, nimble fingers trained to hold spatulas and whisks. Sooil loves complimenting her skills, munching on homemade lunch boxes Sojung makes when she can. Minsoo passes down the offer to try some.

Lately, Minsoo can’t meet with Sooil face to face anymore. Sooil starts walking Sojung to and from school, leaving earlier in the mornings and afternoons. No one at his side, Minsoo learns what it feels like to be alone as he walks across the busy intersections. Any time Sooil has free Minsoo doesn’t, and vice versa. Minsoo finds it easier for the both of them if they stop trying to fit each other in their lives. He focuses more on miscellaneous busywork so he doesn’t have to meet with Sooil at all, and it works. (It works, too well.)

When basketball season officially begins, Minsoo is voted as the team captain. Initially, the team is not up to par with previous years, but Minsoo tries to make it as close as possible. Sooil rarely shows up at the games, and when he does it’s with Sojung, but that doesn’t affect Minsoo. Minsoo plays better than ever, setting personal records for the high school that haven’t been broken in years. His teammates are jovial kids, playful and witty, but they are as hungry for victory as Minsoo is. At the end of the regular season, with a winning streak that has lasted over a dozen games, the team makes it to regionals.

The evening before the first match, Minsoo packs for the overnight trip. He starts off with the essentials, like his towel and underwear. Everything else comes naturally; he only packs the bare minimum since they’re only going to be gone for two days. He looks out his window at the adjacent house and sighs.

Minsoo hasn’t talked to Sooil in weeks. There are so many things that have happened since then, but Minsoo hasn’t confided in his best friend like he normally does. No midnight pillow talks, no reruns of movies to chat during, no interaction at all. At this point, he’s not even sure if Sooil knows the basketball team made it to regionals.

“I’ll call him,” affirms Minsoo. He and Sooil are _friends_ , and he can at least do this much. Punching in Sooil’s number, he sits back on his bed and listens to the dialing tone. However, the line cuts a few seconds in and Minsoo is directed straight to voicemail. He stares at his phone screen, a deep frown on his face, until it lights up with a text from Sooil.

_at the movies w/ the gf!!! ttyl.. hope u don’t mind xp_

Minsoo scoffs, falling back first on the mattress. “Of course,” he mutters, shaking his head, wondering if he was ever Sooil’s first priority like Sooil is to Minsoo — a reoccurring thought, which is as poisonous as the apple Snow White sinks her teeth into.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“You got a _girlfriend_ , hyung, in our last year of high school,” sighs Minsoo. It’s embarrassing to say aloud, and he covers his face with his hands to avoid Sooil’s prying eyes.

“Was that it? Did you not like her?” Sooil asks, scowl apparent in his voice. “We broke up in the middle of our first year at college. She was nice girl, but we wanted different things. Sojung and I still talk every now and then, but if she was the reason—”

“No,” interjects Minsoo. He shakes his head. “Yes.” Groaning, he pulls his knees to his chest and hides his face between his legs. “It’s... complicated, hyung.”

“Make it less complicated,” says Sooil, “or you’re gonna have to deal with an awkward silence that lasts who-knows-how-long in here.”

Minsoo ponders the idea. Awkward isn’t a problem for him, really. Suffocating from the tension in the air, however, doesn’t sound all that pleasant. “I give up. This is all your fault,” he grumbles, bumping his head onto the wall. Sooil smirks, because he knows he’s won. “I’m about to throw my heart onto the floor and let it die. Be quiet, okay?”

“Lips—” Sooil swipes his pinched fingers across his mouth, “—are sealed.”

Minsoo decides to go straight for the bomb, dropping it with the timer already at zero: “So, unfortunately, I was in love with you.” At this statement, Sooil’s face loses its smugness instantly. The reaction, strangely enough, gives Minsoo satisfaction. “The day you got your girlfriend was the day I was going to confess to you. Horrible coincidence, but it happened. I wrote this letter and put it in your locker, and I was waiting on the roof. But she came, and then you did, too... And then you were a couple.” Minsoo scratches behind his ear and sighs. “My opportunity was gone.”

“Minsoo—” Sooil tries to say, but Minsoo glares at him. He sits back and thins his lips.

“Hanging out with you reminded me of what I couldn’t do, and what you could. You could get any girl, and I couldn’t even convey my feelings properly to one. One No Sooil, that is. You’re too incredible, and I— I’m only me.” Minsoo bites his lip. “So I ran away, because I thought you would abandon me.” A second passes, and Minsoo imagines the world stopping around him and Sooil as his voice grows weaker. “I didn’t want to give you the chance.”

“So you decided to abandon _me_ ,” murmurs Sooil, and it’s not _fair_ that he sounds so hurt. It’s not fair at all.

“Yes,” Minsoo says. “I was close-minded and cowardly, and I apologize for that. I didn’t know what else to do.” He looks at Sooil, who seems just as apologetic as him. “Seeing you here — I don’t know. I guess it reminded me...” _Of my pitiful, unrequited love_.

The ground shakes, the floor wobbles, and the red emergency light finally shuts off and brings normal color back into Minsoo’s vision. He and Sooil share a look, breaking into matching grins.

“The elevator’s running,” proclaims Sooil, rising to his feet.

Minsoo does the same and checks his phone, cursing when he sees the time, “Shit, I’m late.”

The elevator soon reaches the first floor, and the doors open to reveal the maintenance guy bowing sheepishly, spouting his apologies. The two men exit the elevator, and Minsoo hurries out of the building to get to the library. As he’s about to turn the corner, Minsoo is stopped by a hand on the crook of his elbow. Sooil looks at him, cheeks flushed, windswept hair the color of the sparkling sand on the beach.

Sooil’s pupils dart to the side as he tries to catch his breath. “Minsoo, before you go—” His grip tightens. “Can we still be friends? I still— I want to be there for you.”

Minsoo has a mile-long list of things he could say. Telling Sooil off would be the most reasonable option, but he detects a bit of himself in Sooil, vulnerable and contrite. “I’ll see you around, hyung,” he promises, but as he sprints to the library he’s not entirely sure he can keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ii. coming up.. eventually... sometime in the future.. more characters & pain. i swear this was a happy story at some point
> 
>   
> gif credit @[cutegyeol](http://cutegyeol.tumblr.com/post/140948982351/%CF%83%EF%BE%9F%D0%B4%EF%BE%9F)
> 
> (fyi all the other ships tagged show up in pt.ii)


	2. ii,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i wrote more than i shouldve & also only proofread like once, so................... yeah. thnx for all those who decided to stay for this ride, its been wild, i regret nOTHING (and everything at the same time t b h its fucking 2a.m.)
> 
>  
> 
> [extra stuff u can read b4 u get thru this mess, aka pre-dtma scene & kuhn scene pov](http://whateverbroski.tumblr.com/post/142392508502/hi-im-the-anon-who-sent-the-ask-about-the)
> 
>  
> 
> ( . _ . )v

“Are you dead inside?” asks Gyujin, half teasing but mostly concerned since he doesn’t have the heart to truly be cynical. His bushy, caterpillar eyebrows are furrowed as he sets a pile of books in front of Minsoo. “Well, you sure look it on the outside, hyung. Your face is so pale. Are you sick?”

Minsoo sits forward, rubbing his eyes. “No, I’m decent,” he murmurs, yawning. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Pulled an all-nighter studying for a test worth a quarter of my final grade.”

Gyujin winces. “Ouch.” He claps Minsoo on the shoulder and urges, “Rest for a while in the backroom, hyung. I’ll make Hwanhee and Dongyeol check in books.” Jokingly, he adds with a faux grave tone, “No smoking weed.”

“Man, you’re such a sweet kid,” chuckles Minsoo, standing and putting his bag over his shoulder.

Gyujin shrugs. “Changhyun hyung tells me that, too. It’s one of my most desirable traits, if I do say so myself.”

“Cheeky,” chides Minsoo, pinching Gyujin’s nose. “Make sure no one robs us while I’m gone.”

“Uh, we’re a library that rents out school supplies, but—” Gyujin salutes and declares, “Aye-aye, captain.”

Minsoo goes to the backroom, without any light, where there are a few tables, a window, and a dusty couch. He puts his bag down and curls onto the sofa, patting away excess dust and trying not to sneeze. Running on only an hour of sleep, he’s able to find rest for a short while. He supposes he gets thirty minutes of shut-eye before he’s stirred awake.

It’s a knock on the door. “Yoo-hoo, hyung.” That husky voice has to be Hwanhee. “There’s someone looking for you.”

“Tell them to go away,” mutters Minsoo, tossing over. “Five more minutes.”

“Hyung, I regret to inform you that I have brought said person back here.” Belatedly, Hwanhee chuckles, and he definitely doesn’t regret anything. “He’s persuasive.”

Minsoo sits up and squints at the doorway. His eyes widen when he recognizes who’s with Hwanhee and he stammers, “S-Sooil hyung.” He hasn’t seen the elder since the elevator incident, a little less than a week ago, since they haven’t been in contact at all. Changhyun hasn’t said anything to Minsoo — but maybe Sooil hasn’t spoken to him either. Honestly, Minsoo hadn’t expected Sooil to come to _him_ , but here he is.

Hwanhee pushes Sooil into the room and says, “I’ll leave you two to your devices. If you need me, I’ll be teaching Dongyeol how to roll over. He’s on his lunch break, FYI, so don’t tell me I’m a bad influence.” He zooms off, shutting the door and letting the sound echo in Minsoo’s ears.

“Long day?” Sooil says, smiling. His hands are in his pockets, and he has those giant headphones around his neck. “I almost jammed my fingers in the piano cover today, but I have reflexes like a fox. Agile.”

“What are you doing here?” Minsoo asks, quiet, and maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe this casually dressed, sheepish Sooil is his imagination.

Sooil sucks in a breath, biting his lip. “Being a friend,” he says, “if you’ll let me.” The sandy blond hair falls in his eyes, and when he takes his hands out of pockets Minsoo can see the bandages wrapped around his fingers. “Will you let me?”

No, this is real. Minsoo can hear Sooil’s breath, can see Sooil’s pupils twitch. Sooil is here, trying to become a part of Minsoo’s life again. And what can he say? How could he deny him?

“Y’know, I’m too beat to say no,” laughs Minsoo, because it’s all so ridiculous, really.

“Thank you,” Sooil says. The wide grin he shows is as bright as ever, lighting up the dark room. Minsoo pats the space beside him and Sooil obediently sits, back straighter than a board. He’s nervous.

Minsoo lays his head down and shuts his eyes. “Hyung,” he calls, the familiar honorific rolling off his tongue like calm waters, and he can practically feel Sooil sigh in relief. “Tell me a boring story so I can fall asleep.”

“Boring?” scoffs Sooil, and Minsoo grins. There’s the Sooil he remembers. “None of my stories are boring, Minsoo. You can hear _exciting_ or _legendary_ , I’ll give you that.”

“Tell me what you had for lunch.”

Sooil is quiet for a moment, and Minsoo thinks he’s stumped him. But, because he’s No Sooil:

“There I was, faced with the dozens of choices at the salad bar — fire-red tomatoes, shredded cheese, crispy croutons, the crunchy iceberg lettuce that called and captivated me... And at the other end of the room, oh so tantalizingly seductive, the fragrant soup pots. French onion? Chicken noodle? I could’ve had anything, yet I was faced with an obstacle: a small child of three with sticky fingers. Sticky from what, that I cannot say...”

 _Yeah_ , Minsoo thinks, failing to hold in his laughter, _maybe this can work_.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Minsoo’s team makes it to the semifinals. The game is against a top-tier high school, in another city, but the trip isn’t overnight. They take a bus in the early morning and get there at noon, right on time to begin warm-ups. Minsoo does exceptionally well during the practice, making almost all his shots, but a few minutes before the game he gets lightheaded and nearly topples onto the coach. His teammates laugh at the mistake, and Minsoo tries not to get too embarrassed.

The other team is a top seed. All the players are as tall as Minsoo or taller, their strong arms and legs products of hours of rigorous training. Minsoo has looked into their playing style, watched videos online, and found that the team focuses on a strong offense, mainly powerful jump shots, so he and the coach proposed bumping up their defensive lineup. In recent practices, the lineup has gotten comfortable enough to work like a machine. In actual gameplay, Minsoo can’t be too sure.

When the players shake hands with the opposing team, an act of good sportsmanship, Minsoo is bumped by a taller student whose jersey is loose against his shoulders. Minsoo bows and offers an apology, but he’s uncaringly shrugged off by the giant. (The team, as he’s also learned, isn’t that nice.)

The game starts without any hitches — Minsoo gets the jump ball, and he actively assists others’ shots. Throughout the first half the score is close, one team never leading for more than two points at a time. Minsoo’s energy begins to waver as he dribbles the ball back and forth across the court, working hard offensively and defensively. Squeaks from the shoes are as loud as the shouts from the crowd, cheering and hooting for their team to succeed. Somewhere on the bleachers Sooil is with his girlfriend, too.

Minsoo goes for three.

Compared to his teammates Minsoo doesn’t cause as many fouls or get fouled at all, for that matter. He stays out of his opponent’s way, takes the charge, but for the most part he’s a safe player. When his head gets pushed harshly to the ground by a strong arm and he skids onto the hardwood floor, an obvious flagrant foul, Minsoo is more angry than hurt when the referee doesn’t call it. The coach screams his protests, but the referee stays true to his decision.

It’s pointless for a player to argue so Minsoo tries to rise to his feet, pressing down his hands, but he can’t. The pain shoots up his left arm and leaves a scorching trail of nerves in its wake, and he drops back to the floor with a groan. He’s desperately trying to push himself off the ground, because the refs can call a foul on him for delaying the game, but he _can’t_.

“Get the medical staff!” hollers one of Minsoo’s teammates as Minsoo’s vision begins to turn hazy. “Hurry up! He could have a concussion!”

“I have to play,” whimpers Minsoo, his voice growing weaker as the background noise fades. The multitude of figures standing over him are blurred and hard to make out. Someone takes his uninjured hand, warm and familiar fingers lacing between his own, and Minsoo feels like he’s floating on air — no, no, that can’t be a good thing.

Somehow, Minsoo has enough strength to call out faintly, “Sooil hyung, I _need_ to play. Sooil hyung, Sooil hyung, _please_ , let me—”

And then he blacks out.

When Minsoo awakens he’s in a hospital, left arm heavy, machines beeping shrilly at his side. Outside the room, he can overhear his parents talking with whom he assumes is a doctor. Words and phrases that stick out to him are “too stressed” and “overexertion,” but the most prominent has to be “fractured, won’t play basketball anytime soon.” When it hits him, he bites his lip.

His head feels like it’s been submerged in water, his movements and thoughts slow and limited, yet he can still feel the tears slip down his face as he reads the banner hung on the wall across the room.

 _SORRY WE COULDN’T MAKE IT TO FINALS_ _  
_ _love, the bball team_

“Those guys,” he mumbles, sniffling. He wipes his nose with his baggy sleeve, drying what he can off his cheeks.

On the long table beside him there are several vases of flowers that have cards sticking out of them. The one that holds hot pink tulips is from Jinwook — _Take care of yourself_ , it says, in neat handwriting — and another that has orchids is marked from the couch. The rest are too far for him to see. He can look at them later.

The door to the room opens and lets in his parents, who rush to his side upon seeing his awakening.

“Minsoo,” his mother cries, gently bringing him close to hug him. His father pats him on the head and kisses his forehead. “Minsoo, honey, how are you feeling?” she asks, stroking his face.

“I’m alive,” jokes Minsoo, a bit hoarse, when she pulls away. “Can you tell me what happened?”

His father sighs heavily. “Semifinals were yesterday,” he begins. “You took a nasty fall, and it stopped the game for a few minutes. Turns out you’ve overworked yourself, got a high fever, and severely fractured your wrist.” Lightly, he taps the cast on Minsoo’s arm. “You’re going to have to complete some intense physical therapy if you want to play basketball again.”

“I have horrible luck.” Wincing at the thought of the tiring means of recovery he’ll have to go through, Minsoo moans. He sighs, “I’m guessing we didn’t win, either.”

“You are correct,” hums his mother, patting his arm for consolation. “The whole team wanted to come to the hospital with you! But, of course, they still had to _play_.” She fixes Minsoo’s hair and says, “Sooil is the only one who went with us.”

Minsoo blanches. “Sooil hyung? W-Why?”

“Dear, you kept calling him while you were delirious!” exclaims his mother, and _oh, God_ that must’ve been embarrassing. “Right when you hit the ground he ran down the bleachers and knelt right next to you. He acted like a real-life drama character!” She laughs. “You wouldn’t let go of his hand during the entire ambulance ride.”

 _Sooil hyung makes it so hard_ , Minsoo thinks, _to stop loving him_.

“Did— Did he say anything?”

Minsoo’s parents share a look. “Goodness,” his mother says, “I don’t recall...”

“That’s fine,” grunts Minsoo. The back of his head starts to throb, like someone whacked him with a frying pan, and he squeezes his eyes shut. The machines by his side beep louder.

“Rest, kiddo,” declares his father. “We’ll go grab the doctor.”

As his parents leave the room, Minsoo struggles to suppress the pain behind his eyes. Beside him his phone is on the table, and the notification light goes off with a text. Instinctively, he reaches over to check it.

_get well soon, minsoo. i miss you_

“Seriously,” Minsoo mutters. He drops his phone on his lap and shakes his head. “Hyung, you’re too much.”

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Saturday is Sooil and Minsoo’s day to hang out and catch up. After grabbing a quick lunch from McDonald’s, two sets of burgers and fries, they head to the university’s open gym and play a few rounds of basketball. Needless to say, the outcomes of the games are easy to predict. Even though Minsoo hasn’t played since high school, his body has memorized the movements like his way back home. The last round finishes, and the final verdict is 6-0.

“This isn’t _fair_ ,” pants Sooil, bending over and placing his hands on his knees. The sweat drips from his face and onto the glazed wooden floorboards, soaking the front, back, and basically _all_ of his shirt. “You’re too _good_ , Minsoo. How can I compete!?”

At the free throw line Minsoo languidly dribbles the basketball between his legs, checks his stance, shoots a fade-away — and makes it. “Hey, hyung,” he laughs, and Sooil sneers at him. “I’m out of practice. We’re on an even playing field. You’ve just lost your touch.”

“I forfeit,” gasps Sooil, crumpling to the ground and sprawling out his limbs. “I’m running on fumes and half a can of Red Bull from four hours ago,” he blubbers. He picks up his head enough to see Minsoo’s smug face. “Let’s go out to eat, yeah? Loser pays, so.”

Minsoo rummages through his bag and takes out a towel to throw at Sooil. “We have to hit the showers first. I’m not gonna go to the mall smelling like a sweaty sock,” he proclaims.

Sooil pouts, wiping his face and neck, and grumbles, “What does that make _me_ , then?”

“A sweat _ier_ sock.”

“Touché.”

The locker room isn’t that crowded. Sooil and Minsoo don’t take that long to shower, rinsing sweat-soaked hair and sticky skin with the university-provided shampoo and soap. (No conditioner, because the students’ tuition money goes towards professors’ salaries and building bigger parking lots.) Minsoo helps Sooil dry his hair after he dries his own, with the electric blow dryer he’d brought from home, carding through bleach-damaged hair that somehow feels silky in between his fingers.

“Ko Minsoo, always prepared,” hums Sooil, as Minsoo waves the blow dryer over the top of his head.

Minsoo laughs, “I don’t want either of us to get hypothermia, hyung.”

Dinner is at a restaurant in a nearby indoor mall, western-fusion food that’s a little greasy but a lot tasty. Sungjun, a self-acclaimed foodie, had recommended the fettucini alfredo to Minsoo, and man, was his advice _great_. Minsoo and Sooil share several entrees, but the pasta dish is definitely their favorite, hands down. There aren’t any leftovers to pack to-go, but the two of them aren’t entirely full when they wrap up and end up ordering gelato.

As they eat from their cups they walk around the mall and window-shop, pointing at oddly posed mannequins and overpriced accessories. One of the stores, notorious for snazzy suits and glittering dresses, has a semi-annual sale going on, items ranging from 30% to 75% off. Minsoo is about to pass by, but Sooil tugs on his sleeve and makes him turn.

“Hang on,” Sooil says, finishing his last bite of gelato. “Can we check out some clothes? I need a new outfit for an upcoming recital.”

Minsoo throws his empty cup away and says, “Sure. Yein works here, so maybe you can get a bigger discount.” Sooil is thrown off by the name, as they enter the store, so he elaborates, “One of my friends. Dark brown hair, really pink lips... He’s dating Sungjun.”

Inside, Yein is at the cash register. He grins upon seeing Minsoo, and he bows politely at Sooil who follows behind. “Welcome! Tell me when you want to check out,” he trills, high-toned voice ringing in the air.

“Thanks,” Minsoo says, and he brings Sooil across the store to look for clothes.

Sooil skims through a rack of belts and proclaims, “I remember you talking about him now. Seon Yein?” He holds his hands at his head, alternating one palm being straight up and the other folded. “Bunny boy.”

“Don’t call him that or he’ll hit you,” warns Minsoo, smiling. Sooil has always been good at impressions.

Shrugging, Sooil holds up a few pairs of pants to his legs, checking the sizes. “I’ll have to watch my mouth. That’s not a new concept.” He grabs a white button-up and an evergreen tie, smiling wide. “Let me try these on real quick,” he says, even though he’s already on his way to the men’s fitting room “When I get out, I need your _honest_ opinion.”

Minsoo remarks flatly, “I hate it.”

“Come on! Wait ‘til I _try it on_!” whines Sooil, and he disappears behind the closed door.

One thing that hasn’t changed about Sooil in these last four years is how long it takes for him to get dressed. Over five minutes have gone by, and he’s _still_ not done. Meanwhile, Minsoo has taken out his phone to check his texts (his mother is wondering when he’s coming home, and he replies _soon_ ), Facebook updates ( _Kim Jinwook is now in a relationship with Kim Wooseok_ , is the top story), and Neko Atsume (god damn it, Tubbs). He’s so focused on refilling the Frisky Bitz that he doesn’t notice the woman standing in front of him until she clears her throat. Minsoo looks up from his phone.

Her hair is long and wavy near the ends, brunette. She’s taller than most girls, almost at Minsoo’s nose, and she grips a designer handbag in well-manicured fingers. Although she seems to have minimal makeup on, she radiates the aura of a model, a natural beauty. She says smoothly, “Minsoo? Is that you?”

“Um, yeah.” Minsoo is confused, and he’s sure it shows on his face. But her name and face click almost immediately after she delicately tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, a move that made the boys swoon in high school. “Sojung, is that right?”

“You got it!” Sojung exclaims, and then her excitement fades. “Oh, this might be weird for you, huh. We never really talked in school, did we?”

“Not... particularly,” Minsoo confirms, maintaining a courteous smile. “You were... Sooil hyung’s girlfriend.” _And the reason I pulled myself out of Sooil hyung’s life, but that was on me. No hard feelings._

Sojung giggles behind her hand and says, “Sorry, it’s just when he and I were dating, all he would talk about was you.” She rubs at her arm, sighing. “I always meant to formally introduce myself, but I never seemed to get there.”

“I’m Ko Minsoo,” he offers wittily, holding out his hand. Sojung laughs and shakes it. “I hope you only heard good things about me.”

“Kim Sojung,” she replies, “and, believe me, I did.” She has a silver promise ring on her finger, and Minsoo wonders if she has another boyfriend. “Do you still see Sooil? I remember you two didn’t talk while I was around.”

 _She noticed that, too? Ouch_. “Actually, he’s in the fitting room right now,” reveals Minsoo, biting his lip. “We recently got in touch again. During high school there was a situation of sorts— Well, I guess you can say I was a little childish. We stopped talking for some time.”

“I’m sure you had a good reason,” Sojung counters lightly. She checks her phone and smiles to herself. “Tell Sooil I say hello. I have to get going.”

Minsoo nods. “Goodbye,” he says. Sojung waves her hand, and as quick as she’d appeared she’s gone.

A bit later, Sooil comes out of the fitting room, shirt tucked into his pants, his tie tied messily around his neck. He’s fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, lips pursed, and Minsoo does his best to ignore his rollercoaster of a heart, which has descended from a steep slope and curves upside-down and back.

“Okay,” Sooil starts, “so I don’t know what look I’m aiming for, but I’m pretty sure I pull a pretty good ‘hot student teacher’ or ‘mediocre porn star’.” He grimaces. “Never mind, I take that all back — too weird.” Standing in front of Minsoo, he puts his hands on his hips and raises an eyebrow. “How do I look?”

“Like a new and improved No Sooil,” Minsoo proclaims. “Nine out of ten.”

Sooil visibly deflates. “I was hoping for a perfect score, but I’ll accept that. No big deal. I’m not mad.”

Rolling his eyes, Minsoo huffs, “Hyung, you still suck at tying ties!” He steps closer to undo Sooil’s tie, wrapping it around his neck again and muttering, “Let me fix it for you.”

It feels like Sooil’s holding his breath as he asks, “Were you talking with someone out here?”

When Minsoo tries to meet his eyes, Sooil is staring at the ceiling. Minsoo brings his focus back on the tie. “Sojung recognized me,” he says. “She said hi. To me, and to you.”

“Is that so,” murmurs Sooil.

“She’s still as pretty as I remember,” notes Minsoo, chuckling.

“Her girlfriend is a sight to see, too,” Sooil proclaims. This time, when Minsoo looks at him he’s gazing with those wonderful, bright eyes, crooked smile more handsome than ever. Playfully, he adds, “She’s tiny.”

Minsoo laughs. “Who’s her girlfriend?” he asks, curious.

“Oh, what was her name again...” Sooil’s eyebrows scrunch together in thought, and he snaps his fingers once he remembers. “Jung Eunbi! She’s a couple years younger than Sojung, but they match each other well. Opposites attract.” He chortles, “When they stand next to one another, the height difference is staggering... but don’t tell her I said that.”

“I have the sudden urge to meet them,” Minsoo laughs, taking a step back. He inspects his handiwork and is satisfied. “All done.”

Sooil grins, straightening his tie and asking once more, “How do I look? Handsome?”

“Eleven out of ten,” answers Minsoo, and oh, how he wishes he were lying.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

“ _Mom_ ,” Minsoo says whiningly. “If you take any longer the whole class is going to graduate without me!”

“Honey, you’re passing a _milestone_ ,” his mother emphasizes, capturing Minsoo’s agitated face with her disposable camera as he barges into the car. “One more picture!”

Minsoo calls loudly, “ _Dad_!” Said man comes hurrying out the front door, taking the driver’s seat and urging his wife into the front seat. “Okay, we’re going!”

The day has finally arrived. Minsoo is graduating high school, closing an old chapter in his life to start writing a new one. The months leading up to this have been hard on him: tests have dragged him through the mud, his injury stopped him from pursuing basketball as a career, and Sooil is a ghost of what could’ve been.

Yet there are silver linings. Minsoo is able to bring himself into the top thirty, a jump that makes him proud of his dedication to his schoolwork. And, from that, he’s been inspired to study a major he believes is more intellectually challenging than a sport: Biology. When he’d been in physical therapy, his therapist had talked to him about her path to her occupation. She’d told him how her dreams had initially reached farther than what she could actually accomplish, and Minsoo was reminded of himself — in more ways than one. Minsoo had consulted with her about her schooling, interested in the subject, and that’s how he swerved to the left and began to travel a new path.

As he and his family reach the school Minsoo grows anxious. The thought _really_ sinks in, then, that Minsoo is graduating, moving on, and going to leave his family behind. He takes a deep breath and walks to the gymnasium, standing amongst all the other students who must be facing the same realizations as him. His assigned seat is closer to the back row of chairs, and he sits and waits for the ceremony to begin.

While he sits there, indistinct chatter going on all around him, Minsoo lets his mind dwell on Sooil for one last time. He puts himself in a state of mind where letting go is an option, an opportunity, and a much needed an escape.

Sooil, his best friend. The day Sooil had introduced himself on Minsoo’s driveway, when Minsoo had been practicing basketball, was a normal day. The days that followed had all been normal days, staying with Sooil and learning what the other boy was made of. Ambition. Curiosity. Hope. Sooil had passed some of his traits to Minsoo, the positive aspects he saw in life, and Minsoo is completely thankful for that. Minsoo is the person he is today because of Sooil: strong, dependable, and eager for chances. The time they’d had together are precious memories. As a friend, Sooil is irreplaceable.

Sooil, his first love. Perhaps it was inevitable. The two boys had been attached at the hip, always beside one another in a crowded room. Minsoo had been innocent and impressionable — _everyone_ liked Sooil. What’s not to like? That wide smile, those sweet words, the unique charm that set him apart from all the other candidates available for Minsoo’s heart to latch onto. Falling in love had been tough; working up the courage to confess albeit not succeeding in doing so had been tougher. But Minsoo would go to such lengths, because of... love. God, it’s so cheesy Minsoo can feel his cheeks flaring red. As a first love, Sooil is undeniable.

And Sooil, his only regret. The letter that had been tucked carefully in Sooil’s locker — whether it was for better or worse, Minsoo can’t say for certain — was the start of the fall. What went with that letter was Minsoo’s undeniable feelings, but they’re still sitting at the base of his heart, oozing like gritty tar. He could’ve let Sooil know how he felt sooner than that, before he’d gotten together with Sojung. Minsoo had opportunities to make things right, too, but he’s been too full of himself to admit that he was the one at fault. As a regret, Sooil is unforgettable.

But Minsoo _needs_ to let go.

On the stage, where there are a small assortment of chairs and a podium, the principal of the school steps forth and takes the microphone. “Hello, graduating class. This will be your last assembly of your high school life. My only announcement is this—” She smiles as students howl and cheer, “—congratulations, you made it.”

Minsoo, wandering eyes and daydreams going rogue, finds Sooil amongst the rest — laughing, grinning, being _happy_ — and decides that this is the end. Letting go has reached its due date, and he hopes that it’s for the better.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Dongyeol’s birthday party is neither on his birthday nor a legitimate party. The month is late January (Dongyeol’s birthday is in mid-December), and the get-together is too casual and laidback to be considered a party. There are a handful of friends at his apartment, and the main event is marathoning Disney movies on the ratty couch. The couch itself can’t fit more than five people, so most of them are left sitting on the floor or standing.

What’s surprising to Minsoo is that a decent number of Sooil’s friends overlap his own. Not only Changhyun, but after discussing it they both know Hwanhee, Yerin, Wooseok, Yuna, and — as Sooil reunites with him at the party — Jinwook. Last week, Sooil had asked if Minsoo wanted to go to Dongyeol’s party, but Minsoo had to tell him he was already invited. The coincidence had given them a good laugh and they show up together anyway, placing their gifts for the birthday boy next to one another’s on a table.

Hwanhee had been the one to organize the party, inviting Dongyeol’s close friends and some of his own. Minsoo recognizes almost everyone: Yein, with Sungjun hugging him from behind, talks with Gyujin in the kitchen; Changhyun, Yuna, and Hwanhee are bickering over the next movie to be played ( _Ratatouille_ vs. _Mulan_ vs. _The Little Mermaid_ ); Wooseok is quietly resting his head on Jinwook’s shoulder as they sit together on the couch. Dongyeol is busy talking with Yerin and a shy girl Minsoo doesn’t recognize. Sojung and (who Minsoo assumes is) Eunbi are here, too, with a charming girl who wears navy stripes and tight jeans.

“Do you want a drink?” asks Sooil, taking off his jacket and hanging it in the closet.

“A bottle of water,” Minsoo says, handing Sooil his coat to do the same.

Sooil chortles, “There’s gotta be _alcoholic_ drinks here, too. Are you sure you only want H2O?”

“Water is always good for you,” Minsoo argues. “Also I have a bit of a stomachache — and maybe a fever, too. I don’t think alcohol is a good way to treat either of those.”

Frowning, Sooil places the back of his hand against Minsoo’s forehead. “You _are_ a little warm,” he murmurs. “I’ll find you something, okay?”

Minsoo smiles. “I’ll go tell Dongyeol that we’re here. Thanks, hyung.”

“Don’t mention it.”

When Dongyeol spots Minsoo heading towards him he immediately opens his arms wide and engulfs his senior in a hug. “Hyung! You made it!” he exclaims eagerly. “Did it take long to get here?”

“Sooil hyung drove. This is about ten minutes from my apartment,” Minsoo proclaims. “He’s not so keen on using his signal, but he’s careful. We got here in one piece.”

Dongyeol laughs. “Hyung, let me introduce you to everyone,” he says, tugging Minsoo with both his arms.

“But I already know most—”

“This is Kim Yewon,” Dongyeol interjects cheerfully, referring to the shy girl whose bangs cover most of her face. She waves. “Then here’s Yerin noona, and Wooseok hyung and Jinwook hyung...” He re-familiarizes Minsoo with all the guests, against his will, and when he reaches Sojung and the rest he grins.

“So this is Eunbi noona, and _this_ is Eunbi noona. There are two! And so _this_ Eunbi noona’s girlfriend is—”

“Sojung,” Minsoo says, and Dongyeol stares at him, shocked. “Oh, we’ve met.”

“I didn’t know that,” murmurs Dongyeol, pouting. “Okay, you can go now. I’m done with you.”

Minsoo chuckles, shaking his head. Sojung gives him a friendly hug before he goes to find Sooil — and it may be him imagining things but one of the Eunbis (Sojung’s girlfriend) glares at him for it. The other Eunbi gives him a high-five for no reason. Minsoo is confused, but _that_ Eunbi seems cool enough.

Looking around, Minsoo tries to find where Sooil is. The apartment isn’t that large, so it shouldn’t be as hard as Minsoo is making it. Yuna had won the debate over which movie to watch, so the intro of _Mulan_ is playing in the background, the sounds of ringing gongs and panflutes. Minsoo takes the empty seat on the couch, next to Wooseok, and sighs.

“What’s the word, bird?” says Wooseok, lifting his head from Jinwook’s shoulder. “Have you come flying solo? Chirp, chirp?” The seriousness of his face gives no indication of drunkenness, but one can never be too sure around Kim Wooseok.

“No, Sooil hyung came with me,” Minsoo answers, and both Wooseok and Jinwook raise their eyebrows. “We’re friends,” he clarifies quickly, but he doesn’t miss the reprimanding look Jinwook gives him.

“Friends,” Jinwook echoes, like he knows there’s something that Wooseok isn’t catching onto.

“Yes, we are _friends_. We met in early December, and we’ve been hanging out with one another ever since.”

Wooseok whistles lowly. “You’ve known him for only a month and a half? And you’re each other’s plus one at Dongyeol’s party?” He shares a look with Jinwook. “Suspicious, Watson.”

“That’s—” Minsoo stops himself short to avoid saying anything compromisable. “Sooil hyung knows Hwanhee, who invited him, while I was already invited by Dongyeol. He gave me a ride because my place is on the way from his.”

“Well, Minsoo has known Sooil for more than a few months, too,” Jinwook says. “Isn’t that right?”

Cornered, Minsoo is stuck nodding. Jinwook is the only one here who is truly aware of Minsoo’s high school crush’s identity. Although most of his friends know there had been a guy he’d pined over, they don’t necessarily know whom. The fact that that is Sooil might cause an uproar, given how many mutual friends they share, if they knew. Jinwook, Minsoo’s friend of nearly six years, is considerate enough not to expose this information, but he sure is trying his best to get Minsoo to reveal it himself.

“We were good friends in high school,” says Minsoo. “We... got separated, afterwards. I haven’t talked to him ‘til recently.”

“Neat,” comments Wooseok. “How’d you find each other again? Given you couldn’t’ve have met through us, since we would’ve known, you must’ve run into one another.” He chuckles. “Sounds a bit like fate.”

“Don’t—” Minsoo can feel it again: Back on the rooftop, frigid winds, how his heart sank to his knees when Sojung had opened that door. Fate hadn’t been so kind back then. The odds of _fate_ giving him another chance with Sooil is laughable, to his bitter conscience. “No, I don’t think so.”

Wooseok taps the bottom of Minsoo’s jaw with his fist. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit,” he chides. “This is exactly like the time we met, when you were all mopey-dopey about your first love. Not _everyone_ is as insensitive as that douche was!”

Minsoo rubs the back of his neck, uncertain. “Okay, I’m pretty sure I said how it wasn’t _his_ fault.” Jinwook narrows his eyes at him. Uh-oh. “And, uh, funny you should mention—”

Holding a beer in one hand and a soda can in the other, Sooil comes over and says, “Yo, Minsoo, I got you a ginger ale. I heard it helps when you’re sick.” After he gives Minsoo his drink he plops on the ground, between Minsoo’s knees. He clinks his glass against the aluminum of Minsoo’s can. “Bottom’s up, pal.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Minsoo proclaims, smiling. Wooseok and Jinwook are staring at them, scrutinizingly, so he clears his throat. “So, Jinwook hyung, how’d you get together with Wooseok? You two happened recently.”

“Oh, I haven’t heard this,” says Sooil, automatically leaning his head back, closer to Minsoo. “Story time!”

Wooseok puts his cheek on Jinwook’s shoulder again, buzzing his lips, and Jinwook begins, “A while back I saw one of his paintings in my favorite coffee shop. The forest oil painting, I think? Burgundy, indigo, and magenta. Wooseok happened to be there while I was marveling it, so I gave him my compliments.”

“Don’t forget about the cheesy pick-up line, hyung,” Wooseok murmurs, hiding a smirk.

“I don’t remember _exactly_ ,” whines Jinwook. “It was art-related, plus something to do with pinning...”

Sooil interjects, “If you were a work of art, I’d pin you against the gallery wall and—” He stops midway, and Minsoo can see the back of his neck flushing. “I’ve— I heard it before,” he coughs.

Minsoo shudders, for more reasons than one. He hopes his own cheeks aren’t red, because he’s boastful of how he doesn’t get flustered. Wooseok, not as perceptive, and Sooil, too busy lolling against Minsoo’s thigh, don’t seem to notice — but Minsoo always has the nagging feeling Jinwook can tell when he’s trying to pretend. Jinwook sighs to himself, and Minsoo wonders if he’s disappointed.

Since all of the them have (for the most part) matured, which means staying out until the asscrack of dawn has lost its appeal, the majority of the guests leave around eleven. _Mulan_ ends, and they bid their goodbyes to the “birthday boy” and his boyfriend. Minsoo is forced to remain on the couch because of Sooil, who has fallen asleep with Minsoo’s leg as a cushion.

Wooseok is asleep, too. Before Jinwook can shake him awake he pokes Minsoo’s nose and mumbles, “You really haven’t changed at all, Minsoo. I’d thought you’d work up some courage and act already.”

“Hyung,” Minsoo says quietly, just barely shaking his head, “I can’t.”

Jinwook frowns. “What’s the problem? What’s the reason now?”

Minsoo’s gaze flickers to Sooil, snoring like a hibernating bear cub, head pillowed against the inside of Minsoo’s thigh. Then, he notices how his hand has found its way onto Sooil’s hair, absentmindedly combing the sandy strands. Stopping isn’t on his mind, so he smooths down the hair so it stays fluffed. With their current positions, there’s a deeper sense of familiarity and camaraderie present that Minsoo has dearly missed. The small bud of affection that has been threatening to bloom inside of his chest, though, is not.

“I like having Sooil hyung as a friend,” murmurs Minsoo. He pauses his fingers when Sooil stirs, and continues when he breathes shallowly. “A friend. That’s all.”

“You’re torturing yourself.”

Minsoo closes his eyes. “ _He_ came to _me_ ,” he says. Biting his lip, he fails to mention the accidental encounter in the elevator. None of his friends are aware of that incident — not even Jinwook, who is Minsoo’s metaphorical shoulder to lean on in times of crisis. Technically, there, Minsoo had found him first. But what truly matters is Sooil had been the one who came back, looking for a best friend in Minsoo.

“Does that make a difference?” Jinwook asks, but he continues without letting Minsoo respond. “You’re still in love with him.”

“I—” Minsoo knows he can’t deny it, and Jinwook knows as well. After he’s figured out who Sooil is now, with new and old clashing as a single identity, Minsoo has been more in love than ever before. As a chance to redeem himself, there’s desperation in his voice as he whispers, “I already told him that I was. When we saw each other again— When I felt like I _had_ to.” He brings both his hands to his chest and grits out, “Believe me, hyung, I can already tell how my story will end if I try again.”

The scoff Jinwook lets off is harsh enough to make Minsoo flinch. “You’re cowardly,” he says, and contrary to how he’s treating Minsoo he carefully begins to rouse Wooseok out of his slumber. “You’re making yourself think that. _You_ ’re not giving yourself a chance at happiness.”

“I just want Sooil hyung to be happy,” insists Minsoo, and he then realizes how self-deprecating it sounds. He says quietly, while Wooseok blearily comes to, “I don’t want to mess anything up, okay? I’m fine. I’m fine with how things are now.”

Wooseok slurs groggily, “Minsoo hyung? You feelin’ alright?” Minsoo nods. Jinwook takes his hand in his, smiling, and he grins in return. “Is it time to leave?”

“Yes, love,” Jinwook says, with so much care and affection that maybe— maybe Minsoo is envious. “Let’s go say goodbye to Hwanhee and Dongyeol. I think they’re in the kitchen, cleaning.”

“Okay.” Wooseok follows Jinwook’s lead and waves to Minsoo. And, as an afterthought, waves to the sleeping Sooil. “Have a good night, hyung.”

Watching the couple leave, hand-in-hand, Minsoo can only hold his breath and turn over Jinwook’s words in his mind. All of it is typical of Jinwook, who only wants the best for Minsoo — for anyone, really, because that’s his nature. No matter how ruthless he can sound, he’s an angel in disguise who means well.

But still. So what if he’s a coward? So what if he’s not putting his happiness first? Minsoo is content. He and Sooil are friends. There’s no need to confess, no need to put his feelings on the line. If he doesn’t expect anything, he won’t be let down. Sooil knows that Minsoo was in love, in the past, and if he were to know that Minsoo still harbored the same—

“Minsoo?”

Pulled away from his whirlwind of thoughts, Minsoo looks down to see Sooil awake, gazing up at him. He doesn’t look all that tired, but another emotion Minsoo can’t quite place. “Yeah, hyung? Do you need anything?”

Sooil stares blankly at him, blinking slowly. “Do you wanna go back home?”

“If you want to,” Minsoo answers, but the frown Sooil gives makes him rephrase himself. “Yeah, sure. Everyone left. There’s not much else to do.”

After thanking Dongyeol and Hwanhee for letting them stay for so long, Sooil and Minsoo head to the car in silence. Outside, the air is cold, but not cold enough for Minsoo to zip up his jacket. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares at the sky, the crescent moon standing out amongst the blackened canvas.

“Hyung,” he says, “the moon is smiling at us.”

A beat later, Sooil chuckles quietly and notes, “Just like the old days.”

Minsoo wants to disagree. They’re different people now, because Minsoo goes to sleep late and wakes up early, because Minsoo isn’t afraid of spiders anymore, because Sooil isn’t looking at Minsoo any more than he’s looking at the sky. He wants to tell him it’s nothing like the old days, but he’s too mesmerized by the faraway glint in Sooil’s eyes to say a single word. This moment, he supposes, must be hard for Sooil to override what’s already happened and put to memory.

(Maybe — just maybe — Minsoo hadn’t been the only one who’d clung desperately to the past.)

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

The apartment that Minsoo moves into is shitty, but it’s not _that_ shitty. It’s been a week since he’s moved in, classes have yet to begin, and he can safely say that he’s gotten used to the boisterous neighbors, the squeaky floorboards, and the fickle electricity that sometimes keeps the refrigerator running. (When his parents had first brought him to it, they nearly dragged his ass back home after seeing how bad it was. Minsoo, because he’s a _big boy_ , told them repeatedly that he would live. His mom still doesn’t like it when he says that.)

There’s a piece of Minsoo around every corner of the flat. A basketball is beside the television stand, acting as a decoration because he no longer plays regularly anymore — the injury had set him back too far to recover the swing of things. It’s a nostalgic reminder of his own leadership, and he’s thankful for the good times that came from playing. Sweaters and gym shorts are scattered over the couch and on the floor. When he cleans, it’s more like shoving things in the closet or kicking them under furniture. Only two brands of cereal are in his kitchen, since those are the only good ones on the shelves, according to him. He’s an advocate for instant and easy-to-prepare food, but he misses home cooked meals every so often.

And in his bedroom, on his nightstand, there’s a photo frame. Gathering dust, but he’s never had it in him to clean it. He stares at it often enough, whenever he feels down.

The picture is of Minsoo and Sooil, their arms linked together, when they were returning to the campsite after being lost until midnight. That had been the summer of Minsoo’s second year of high school, during one of the class trips. Everyone had been so worried for them, but little did they know the duo hadn’t minded losing their way. As they strayed from the path Sooil showed Minsoo constellations that resembled animals and gods, some of them legitimate stories while others came from his wild imagination. The moon had been their companion, grinning as she guided them to safety. Minsoo wondered, at that moment, how it felt to be up there amongst the galaxies — and Sooil never really let him live that down. But, then again, Minsoo never really minded.

One of their homeroom teachers had taken the photo and given it to them, which really meant to _Minsoo_ , who was sensible enough to put it in a frame. He doesn’t know why he’d brought it along to his new start, his new life, but it’s a memory he can’t let go of. Although Sooil is off his mind, there are bits that don’t seem to wash away.

Some hour in the afternoon, Minsoo decides to take a walk. The power is out, and he’s in the mood for coffee. Having just moved in a short while ago, he has yet to find a nearby coffee shop or bakery to drown his sorrows in. Now seems as good a time as any.

After a few blocks, passing by convenience stores and laundromats, he finds an out-of-the-way cafe that has a chalky signboard out in front. _Special Today! Pumpkin & Pecan Spiced Lattes_, is what it says. Minsoo goes inside and sighs dreamily. There is a comforting atmosphere, R&B songs playing on a set of speakers and employees instantly greeting him. As he sees people with their laptops and notebook set out in front of them, he notices a familiar face at the table by the window.

“Jinwook hyung!”

Said man raises his head from his textbook (calculus, yikes) and grins widely as Minsoo approaches. “Hey, fancy seeing you here! Sit with me, comrade.”

“I haven’t even ordered yet,” laughs Minsoo. He takes the seat across from Jinwook, placing his elbows on the empty spaces on the table.

In turn, Jinwook stands and declares, “Tell me what you want. I’ve made a new friend, Dongyeol, who works behind the counter, so he can give me discount.”

“The spiced latte sounds promising. Pecan?”

Jinwook grins. “I’ll be back,” he says, leaving the table and talking to the bubblegum-haired worker cleaning out coffee grinds from the machine.

Minsoo glances over all of Jinwook’s study materials, sprawled across the surface of the table. He must’ve taken a summer course or early admission — there’s no way this can be the first assignment, because if it is Minsoo has to prepare himself for an equivalent amount of suffering when his classes begin. Minsoo hasn’t seen Jinwook since graduation, mostly because he’d been busy resting and rehabilitating his wrist, doing some minor jobs to rake in some cash. They’ve kept in touch, texting and managing some phone calls. As of late, though, Minsoo has been too occupied moving out of his house and reminiscing about what used to be.

Setting Minsoo’s steaming latte on top of his open textbook, Jinwook returns to his seat and shows off that thick-lipped smile. “So what are you doing around these parts, Minsoo? I thought you were commuting to the university,” he says, curious.

“Actually, I rented an apartment,” chuckles Minsoo. He takes a careful sip from his cup, letting the aromatic nuttiness melt onto his tongue. “No driving for me yet. No license, no car, no worries.”

“What about Sooil? Is he living with you?”

Minsoo is taken aback by the harmless question, because the name still pierces through the air when he hears it out loud. “No,” he says, frowning slightly. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re best friends,” Jinwook says, shrugging, “or am I wrong about that, too?”

There’s something to his voice that makes Minsoo uncomfortable, as if he can sense how much Minsoo doesn’t want to talk about the past — it almost sounds like he wants to exploit it. But the moment passes, and Jinwook begins telling Minsoo of how university is treating him, how the professors are either hot or wrinkly, and everything is good.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Sungjun stares at the seating placement monitor and grimaces. “Well, shit.”

Minsoo comes back from buying the popcorn — three tubs, extra butter and a pinch of salt — and asks, “What is it?”

On this lovely Saturday evening Sungjun had been in charge of getting the tickets, picking out where each of them is sitting for the seven o’clock screening of a fairly recent romantic-comedy. He, Yein, Gyujin, Changhyun, and Minsoo have come to watch it and later go out for dinner. (Very apparently, Minsoo is the fifth wheel — he has a whole bucket of popcorn to himself, for crying out loud.) Being the eldest, it’s only natural Minsoo shows his utmost concern when things seem awry.

“The only available spots are all over the place,” Sungjun replies frantically, showing everyone the red spots on the screen. “There are two here, two there — I don’t think I can get us all together.”

Yein gravitates towards his shoulder, placing his chin there and pouting. “Don’t separate us,” he murmurs.

Sungjun kisses his forehead. “Never.”

“We’re fine sitting without you guys,” Changhyun says a little too eagerly, and Gyujin tugs Changhyun’s hand as his cheeks flare up. “What? I’m speaking honestly!”

Sungjun points to three different areas — two, two, and one. “How are those? Can we agree with that?”

Gyujin looks in Minsoo’s direction, with distraught and pity his innocent face can’t mask. “But then Minsoo hyung will be—”

“I will be _fine_ ,” Minsoo cuts in. “I can take a seat by myself. As long as you guys don’t ditch me afterwards, that is. I still want to grab sushi.”

“We wouldn’t dare do such a thing!” Yein exclaims.

Sungjun shrugs as the tickets are filtered out of the machine. “The reservation is under your name, so.” Yein elbows him for it, and he makes a face. “We _wouldn’t_ , even still,” he mutters, handing everyone their respective tickets.

“Okay, we can all meet out here once the movie’s done,” Minsoo explains. “If you can’t find each other, call.”

“My hair is _green_ ,” Changhyun says dully, a subtle pout coming from his mouth. “It’s sorta hard to miss.” Gyujin gives him a pat on the head, and it’s mildly comforting.

According to Minsoo’s seat number he’s farther in the back, closer to the left side of the theater. There are a fair number of people already here, twenty minutes before the movie is scheduled to show. He climbs to his seat of isolation and, because no one is presently around him, he silently hopes that it stays that way. While minding his own business, checking his KakaoTalk and snacking absently on his popcorn, Minsoo is startled when someone suddenly clears their throat by the aisle.

And, as luck would have it, Sooil stands there, grasping a large soft drink in his hand, blinking rapidly as an unsure smile sneaks onto his face. “Hey, Minsoo,” he says. “Fancy seeing you here?”

Minsoo cracks a smile. “Where’s your seat?” he asks, and without hesitation Sooil points to the chair right next to him. What are the odds? “Come and sit, then. You’re a fire hazard, standing in the aisle like that.”

Sooil snorts as he climbs over Minsoo’s legs and settles down, placing his drink in the cupholder. A few moments pass before he inquires, “Are you here with anyone?” Minsoo nods, and he whistles. “Date night, is that right? I get it. I’ve been there before.”

Shaking his head, Minsoo clarifies swiftly, “Not exactly. I came with Sungjun and a few others. We had to split up to get seats. Afterwards, we’re heading to the Japanese restaurant down the road.” He sighs. “I’m the fifth wheel tonight.”

“You’re a step above me,” Sooil proclaims, amused. “My current position is the third wheel.” He points vaguely to the side and says, “Wooseok and Jinwook are in another theater. We’re going bowling when our movies are finished.”

Minsoo frowns. “Why didn’t you see the same movie?”

Sooil snorts, “They like _action_ better. It has something to do with the over-the-top explosions and reckless car chases.”

“And you’re here,” Minsoo says blandly, eyebrow cocked, “watching a rom-com. Alone.”

Pursing his lips, Sooil nudges Minsoo’s arm and proclaims, “I have you now.” He briefly ducks his head and then nods to the screen. “Plus, this genre is my favorite.”

“I remember,” Minsoo says, and he doesn’t miss the way Sooil bites his lip. “Mine, too.”

The lights of the theater dim, and Sooil taps at the rim of Minsoo’s tub. “Share some popcorn with me?” he whispers. “I can split some of my cola.”

“Gross,” Minsoo mutters playfully, but he takes Sooil’s drink from the holder and passes Sooil the popcorn tub anyway.

The movie holds Minsoo’s attention well — the story of a heart surgeon who’s never known love until one of her patients returns to thank her and makes her change her mind. He and Sooil whisper to one another when a particular scene interests them and they have to get the thought out before it dissipates. All the popcorn is eaten around the halfway point, the cola sucked dry as well, so Minsoo sets the tub under his seat and places his arm on the shared armrest.

Somewhere between the ending credits and the climax of the film Sooil’s hand falls into his, naturally, like it had always meant to be there. At first Minsoo doesn’t notice, or maybe he _does_ and chooses to ignore it. His breath catches in his throat when he feels the gentle squeeze, and he can’t help but let out a shaky sigh. Sooil’s face remains unchanged when he takes a glance at it, but there’s something there. Sooil’s palms, the pads of his fingers rough from ivory keys, are damp with a thin layer of sweat.

( _I_ _t doesn’t mean anything_ , Minsoo thinks to himself. _This is the_ king _of sweat, and nothing more._ )

The end comes, and Sooil’s hand slips away from Minsoo’s. He swallows down whatever had bubbled in his throat — words, maybe — and picks up the empty tub from the ground to throw out when they leave. He steels himself for conversation, briefly inhaling a short breath.

When the lights turn back on, Minsoo sees that the area around Sooil’s eyes is puffy. “Did you cry?” he asks, baffled, holding down a laugh.

Patting his face with his sleeve, Sooil pinches his fingers together and squints through the space in between them. “I’ll admit, I teared up a little. This much.”

“Most of it was funny!” remarks Minsoo. They leave the theater, following the crowd, and he tosses the empty cup and popcorn tub into the trash.

“The emotional parts—” Sooil sniffles, entirely fake, “—really got to me.”

Outside, Changhyun and Sungjun are standing by the restroom, patiently waiting for their boyfriends. At the moment the two of them appear to be in a heated battle of rock, paper, scissors, with Sungjun snickering at his consecutive wins. When Minsoo and Sooil walk towards them Changhyun has received his first win, Sungjun grieving, and greets Minsoo cheerily.

“Oh! Sooil hyung!” he exclaims, astonished. “Where’d you come from? Did you sit with Minsoo? Did you plan this?”

Minsoo is overwhelmed at this version of Changhyun, extra excited and giddy. “A coincidence,” he answers, hoping it’ll satisfy them.

Sooil adds, “We have a lot of those.”

Sungjun, after he’s recovered, asks, “Do you have some place to be, hyung? If you don’t, you should join us at sushi. It’s right across the street.”

The proposition is amiable, with no ill intentions, but Minsoo can see the way Sooil’s shoulders tense. Is he uncomfortable? No, that can’t be. He’s _No Sooil_ , and he’s a bluff by nature. (Or is that a farce? Is he acting?)

“I dunno... I’m with Wooseok and Jinwook, and they wanted to go bowling,” Sooil says, scratching his head. “Oh, speak of the devils.”

Jinwook and Wooseok walk towards them, hands clasped, and greet everyone. Yein and Gyujin exit the bathroom as well, so they’re all able to exchange their hellos. There is chit-chat amongst them for some time, and at some point Jinwook catches Minsoo’s attention while Wooseok is focused on Gyujin’s probation story. (Changhyun is telling it, since he loves it so much. It’s the day in Gyujin’s youth when he decided to free the lobsters from the tank at an all-you-can-eat buffet.)

Jinwook proclaims to Minsoo, raising an eyebrow, “You’re here with Sooil?”

“And Sungjun, Yein, Changhyun, and Gyujin,” clarifies Minsoo, refusing to get riled up at the bait. “I just happened to run into hyung.”

“If you say so.” Jinwook shrugs. “Movie dates are a good step in anyone’s dating life, really. I’m _just_ saying.”

Minsoo doesn’t get flustered. No, he only has reddening ears and hopes Sooil hasn’t heard anything.

Springing forward, Yein suddenly takes one of Jinwook’s hands and one of Wooseok’s hands, shaking them as he talks. “We were talking about how we’re going out to eat right now. Have you heard of Sakura?” he asks. The couple nod their heads. “Ah! Do you want to come, too?”

“Yeah, come with us! Bowling can wait,” Gyujin declares. “They don’t close ‘til eleven, right? That’s plenty of time to grab a bite!”

Jinwook and Wooseok share a look — couple’s telepathy, probably, with subtle quirks of their expressions. “We’re down for it,” Wooseok agrees. “We were planning on grabbing pizza or something from the bowling place, but sushi sounds good.”

“Sooil, how about you?” asks Jinwook.

Putting on a smile that looks too plastic, too forced, Sooil replies, “I don’t think I have much of a choice.” When Minsoo touches his shoulder he accepts it, and the smile then gradually becomes more sincere.

“Let’s all go bowling afterwards!” suggests Changhyun, pumping his fist in the air. “I can hit some wild turkeys if I wanna— Oh, Gyujin, I’m _not_ talking about the _animals_! I’m sorry! It’s bowling jargon!”

“That all depends on how much money is left in our wallets,” Jinwook says, while Changhyun worries over Gyujin's emotional state. “Everyone is paying for their own rolls, okay? Try to keep it under ₩15,000. Anything higher really adds up.”

Sungjun mutters under his breath, “Hyung got here two minutes ago, and he’s already bossing us around...”

Ears like a bat, Jinwook (a stool compared to Sungjun the Pillar) sneers, “Excuse me?”

“Nothing!” Sungjun scurries off, pulling Yein’s hand to follow. Jinwook is close to chasing them, but Wooseok stops him with a kiss on the cheek. They follow them, at a normal pace, bumping heads every so often.

Gyujin hollers, “Lead the way!” Laughing, he and Changhyun swing their connected hands like young children, innocent and adorable.

Minsoo and Sooil, a half step ahead, are the ones who trail behind. There is no hand holding, no kisses, only a familiar air between them that words can’t place to the feelings.

“Come on, slowpoke,” chuckles Sooil, waving at Minsoo. “All the fish are going to swim back to the ocean if you don’t hurry up! We can’t have them _that_ raw!”

“Never hurts to try!” shouts Minsoo, and he wonders how well he can follow his own advice.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Halfway through his first year in college, Minsoo gets his first experience of being _wooed_ by a stranger. The whole situation is surreal to him, mainly because nothing like it has ever happened before. High school had been the time where he was admired from afar, a star basketball player and a teenage heartthrob — Sooil had said it, once, and it never left Minsoo’s memory. (That’s the case with many of their exchanges.) He never really thought much of it, since no one confessed or anything like that. Looking back at it he could’ve easily gotten into a stable relationship if he hadn’t fallen in love with Sooil.

But, surprisingly, the library is the place where Minsoo is approached by the lilac-haired man, wearing a graphic tee of a rollerskating panda. Minsoo has seen him around, scanning the shelves for books or working on his laptop in the corner of the building. When the stranger approaches him, Minsoo is listening to Big Bang’s most recent album in one earphone as he writes his literature analysis.

“You’re really handsome,” the stranger says, sliding into the adjacent seat, a playful gleam in his eyes. (He’s attractive, as far as Minsoo can tell.) “I’m Chanhee. I couldn’t help but notice you.”

Momentarily stunned, Minsoo gives his name and tacks on a pitiful, “That’s me.”

“I’ve seen you around campus,” Chanhee proclaims. “Are you a first year? New?” Minsoo nods. “I can show you around some time.”

The line is horrible. Not only is Minsoo a _student_ _at this university_ , the school year is halfway over. If he _really_ needed a tour right now he would call Jinwook, who is now a tour guide for visiting high school students. But, for some unknown reason, there’s a charm to how Chanhee delivers that gets Minsoo to answer, “Sure.”

Not long after their first meeting comes the first date. Chanhee leads, because Minsoo is young and inexperienced. They meet up whenever they’re free; they text or call in between the hours. Not textbook romantic, per se, but new and different. Minsoo likes Chanhee, really enjoys his presence.

Chanhee is his first kiss, on a Sunday afternoon, when it’s raining quiet droplets from April showers. Minsoo holds the umbrella they’re under, laughing. Chanhee calls him his sunshine, and Minsoo wonders if he’s met his moon.

( _Fuck_. In all the worlds, every galaxy, eons and eons out in the future, Minsoo can’t let anyone else take that title. It’s long been taken by someone he can’t take it back from.)

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

This, amongst many of Minsoo’s life choices, is a mistake. _This_ is stumbling into his apartment, Sooil’s arm around his shoulder for support, and letting his first love stay the night.

It might’ve started with Dongyeol’s idea to get together at a nightclub. He had wanted to drag Hwanhee out, since his boyfriend is a little shy for these kinds of things, and invited several of their close friends for moral support. Yuna and Yewon came, and so did Minsoo and Sooil. Dongyeol’s reasoning for inviting these specific friends had been for one shared characteristic: single. For a better, more _enjoyable_ time, he’d said. Needless to say, he wasn’t wrong.

There was an endless assortment of drinks — colorful alcohol that was a myriad and mix of flavors. With the young crowd, everything had either been unimaginatively strong, abrasively neon, or had a mini tropical umbrella in it. The taste had burned Minsoo’s whole mouth, acidic or bitter, he still can’t tell. He saw the fire in Sooil’s eyes as they threw back shots, and laughter rose from the base of their chests to the heavens. Sooil had always been daring but never truly reckless, and Minsoo was even less than that. But, then again, they’re different from their high school identities. Things were different.

At some point in the night, Yuna had somehow taken control over the sound system and made the clubbers her audience for karaoke. She was good, but security had to chase her down — her talent earned her a mere warning. Yewon had disappeared for a few hours, but when Minsoo saw her again she was holding a small poodle. There was no collar, and whenever she was asked where it had come from her reply was a small, “ _Mine_.”

Dongyeol and Hwanhee were more than likely making out in the bathroom. They’re typically a duo who care little for onlookers and PDA, but when they _really_ get going they enjoy their privacy. On the contrary, Sooil and Minsoo danced out in the open and sang their hearts out, spinning and jumping, taking one drink after the next. (Minsoo probably threw up in the women’s bathroom. Sooil definitely threw up on someone’s Coach sneakers.)

Before anything could get _too_ wild, Minsoo had grabbed Sooil by the hand and led him out of the building. After the elder nearly face-planted into oncoming traffic, Minsoo had taken it upon himself to get Sooil somewhere safe to stay for the night — and the closest, cheapest option was his own apartment.

So here they are now. Both of them have sobered up considerably, but there is still some dizziness to their dragging steps. When they get in, Minsoo turns on a few lights and walks across the living room.

“Shoes off,” Minsoo commands, and Sooil obediently toes off his boots before following. He leads Sooil to the bathroom, holding open the door and flipping on the light switch. “Go shower, hyung. I’ll lend you clothes.”

Sooil rubs his eyes. “Towel?”

“Under the sink.”

Nodding, Sooil mumbles, “Thanks.” He enters the bathroom and leaves the door ajar. When Minsoo finds clothes that can fit Sooil, he shuffles inside and places them on the counter, hearing Sooil hum part of a song (“Hot Cross Buns”) as he washes his hair.

While waiting for Sooil to finish Minsoo takes his time to clean the apartment. (Cleaning equates to kicking anything possibly embarrassing under his bed.) He realizes his photo with Sooil from their high school summer trip is on display on his nightstand, but despite how mortifying it may be for Sooil to discover it Minsoo leaves it be. In the living room he turns on the TV and puts on a variety show, one he’s seen before but doesn’t remember well, and settles on the sofa.

Sooil, only a few minutes later, comes out of the bathroom and joins Minsoo, the towel wrapped around his neck and covering half his head. He’s smiling goofily as he bumps Minsoo’s shoulder.

“Done already?” Minsoo asks, and Sooil nods. (He smells like Minsoo, like tangerines.) “Good. I’m going to shower, too. Try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone.”

“No promises.”

Minsoo takes a set of pajamas and goes to the bathroom. The air is steamy, and there are small drawings in the corner of the mirror — Sooil’s handiwork, because he’d signed his name, too. The water feels great on his skin, washing away impurities and sweat brought by the heated night. He lathers the shampoo into his hair, and then he hears the door open.

“Minsoo, I wanna brush my teeth.”

It takes all of Minsoo’s willpower to not burst out into laughter, but he still chuckles at the sudden request. Sooil’s shadow is behind the curtain, Sooil blows raspberries like he’s a helicopter as he waits for Minsoo to reply. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the cupboard. I think it’s green,” Minsoo says, over the water. There’s some noise, rummaging, and then silence. “Hyung? Find it yet?”

Sooil garbles what sounds to be a, “Yup,” with a mouth full of toothpaste foam. For a few minutes both of them are in bathroom, washing up, readying themselves for bed, and it feels so natural. Sooil finishes brushing and tells Minsoo _goodnight_ , and Minsoo gives him the same send-off as he runs conditioner through his tangled hair.

After Minsoo brushes his teeth, he dries his hair and goes to the living room to turn off the TV. Sooil is there, lying on the couch, hugging one of Minsoo’s pillows to his chest and blearily watching Running Man.

“Still awake?” Minsoo asks, and Sooil nods languidly. “Are you sleeping on the couch?” A pause, and then another nod. Minsoo frowns. “I’m fine sharing my bed, hyung.”

So, Sooil climbs into Minsoo’s bed, without another word, Minsoo shutting off all the lights and soon joining him. The area between them is barely there. If Sooil moves half a foot closer he could feel the steady drumming of Minsoo’s heart. (Maybe he already can.) Outside, it’s drizzling. The sound lulls Minsoo closer to sleep, but it doesn’t last long.

“Minsoo?”

When Minsoo responds, he leaves his eyes closed. It could be a dream, for all he knows. “Hm?”

“Thanks.”

 _No, not a dream_. “Don’t, hyung. It’s no problem. Anyone would do the same.”

“That’s not it,” Sooil murmurs, and Minsoo opens his eyes. He’s staring at Minsoo, splaying his fingers over his chest. “The space right here—” He offers a tired smile. “It doesn’t feel empty anymore. I feel whole again.”

Minsoo stays silent.

“Remember the elevator?” Sooil asks. “You told me about the day you tried to confess, but you never got the chance to. You never confessed to me, and I didn’t have the chance to answer you.”

 _This is horrible_. “What would you have said?” inquires Minsoo, feigning interest and lightheartedness (when, in actuality, he feels like he’s suffocating). “That I was too tall for you? Too good at school? That I made you look bad?”

“That you were out of your mind,” says Sooil, “falling for a goofball like me.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t help it.” _Gravity was against me, back then. Even now._ “Everyone was in love with you.”

“And you, too,” insists Sooil. “You didn’t see it, but everyone loved you.” (Minsoo can’t tell if he’s trying to be funny or flattering. Nowadays it’s hard to read Sooil.) “Ko Minsoo, the noble classmate who never strayed from what was right, on the court and at the desk. What a headline.”

“That’s not true.”

Sooil shakes his head. “All the kids wanted you, or to be you, but you were always with me.” He shifts. “And, I dunno, I was happy about that.” He says, much quieter, “I thought you chose me over everyone else.”

“I did,” Minsoo blurts, but it’s too late to turn back, “and look where that got me.”

“Right by my side,” Sooil declares, sounding so sure and confident. He’s not joking, and it’s making Minsoo’s nerves go haywire. “I’ve missed you, Minsoo. I can’t say it enough.”

 _Stop_. “Then don’t,” Minsoo says, pulling the covers closer to his neck. “Go to sleep, hyung. It’s late.”

But Sooil doesn’t go to sleep. Sooil, hands blindly reaching towards Minsoo and carefully finding his face, presses a kiss to his lips, filled with enough electricity to light a city, enough desperation to make Minsoo whimper. The touch of Sooil’s chapped lips against his own is like getting led to an oasis after weeks of trekking a barren desert. It feels like an eternity has passed when Sooil pulls back, an expression akin to fear as he waits for Minsoo to say something.

“Why?” Minsoo whispers, covering his eyes fretfully. He doesn’t want Sooil to see him cry, not like this. “Why _now_?”

Sooil kisses him again, and it’s nothing like Minsoo had imagined. It’s warmer, sweeter, and most definitely _real_.

“That’s not it,” breathes Sooil. “It was never _now_. I’ve always been in love with you, Minsoo.” He takes Minsoo’s hand, presses the knuckles to his lips. “I’ve loved you for so long, Minsoo, and— and I never knew. The idea was so farfetched, when we were kids, but now it makes so much sense.

“I watched all your basketball games because I saw how much playing meant to you. The way you laughed after you’d make a shot left me breathless. I brought you your favorite ice cream because you wouldn’t stop smiling until you finished your bowl. Even if there wasn’t that much left you’d still share with me. There were butterflies permanently living in my stomach. I stayed with you for years, years, years— When I got together with Sojung, I thought I needed to lose you. I thought we weren’t supposed to be as close as we were. You could have your life without me, and that’s what I’d hoped.

“But I couldn’t stop thinking of you, no matter what I did. I kept thinking I should go back to you, but what would I say? How could I explain my absence in your life? Me being in love with you never occurred to me, nor did vice versa. I hadn’t known until I saw you in the elevator, and it was like I finally found the missing piece to my puzzle. I know it’s unfair of me to say this, but—”

“Shut up,” sobs Minsoo, who’s given up on holding in his stream of tears. “You’re a jerk. You’re a total asshole.” It makes Sooil’s face twist, and he’s torn between punching him or kissing him again. “I gave up so long ago, and I _tried_ to let you go. Do you seriously expect that _this_ is how it all turns out? Just like that?”

There’s a broken silence, with Minsoo’s hushed sniffles and the _pitter-patter_ of rain ceasing against the window. Sooil peppers Minsoo’s skin with fluttering kisses, feather-light.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Sooil brushes Minsoo’s hair from his eyes. “You love me, right?”

And so there they are, after the rain has stopped, the moonlight casting a shadow onto what they’ve learned is the final act of fate.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Minsoo and Chanhee last a year and a half. Chanhee tells it to him straight, on the corner of the street, and leaves him alone at the crosswalk. The result isn’t devastating, but that night Minsoo sits in his apartment and wonders what went wrong.

Things had been fine between them — at least Minsoo had thought so. They went on dates, met one another’s friends, and even had sex. They had been a picturesque couple. Everyone thought they would last, and Minsoo did, too. But Chanhee’s words, cryptic but not spiteful, told him otherwise.

“You’re always looking behind me,” he’d said, “like you’re waiting for someone else to come by.” And, voice full of pity, he had continued, “I don’t think we can work towards a future if you’re so stuck in the past.”

What does that mean? “Stuck in the past”? Minsoo doesn’t get it. He’s getting closer and closer to achieving his Biology degree, a few courses behind landing a job as a physical therapist. He’s met all his closest friends from university, aside from Jinwook, and there’s never a dull moment around them. Basketball is ingrained in his bones, but he’s forgotten about the heat of competition and the chill of loss. It’s a distant memory.

The past is history, but there are parts of history that he can’t let go. He pretends it’s not real, it’s nothing he needs to face, but.

But.

His mind wanders. He dreams, in the days and nights. Fantasies, lost causes. In those dreams the most familiar face to him is one he hasn’t seen in years, the only one he’s attempted to forget.

No, he doesn’t forget. First love is cruel like that. Sooil is out there, finding happiness and love, and Minsoo is here, alone and left behind. Minsoo wants a happy ending, but he’s not sure if he’ll truly ever get one. Maybe he’s not cut out for romance.

 

☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼ ☾ ☼

 

Anxious as he is, Minsoo seems to be handling the apartment-check better than expected — well, better than Sooil, who still hasn’t found his wallet. He’d stayed the night at Minsoo’s after attending a recital, which Minsoo graciously awarded him with a bouquet and a spot next to him in bed afterwards. Minsoo will refuse to admit it, but he’s half the reason why they’re running late in the first place. (“It takes two to tango,” Sooil had muttered, when the alarm clock hadn’t woken them, and Minsoo had buried his blushing face into the pillow in an attempt to smother himself.)

While Minsoo takes his suitcase to the door, he hollers, “Keys?”

Sooil picks up his car keys from the kitchen table, a thousand and one charms connected to the key rings. “Got ‘em,” he affirms, jingling them with his fingers.

“Wallet?”

“Found! Under the couch — and I’m not naming names, but _someone_ must’ve kicked it under there.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” retorts Minsoo. “Stove?”

Looking over his shoulder at the kitchen, Sooil hums, “It’s still there.” Before Minsoo can punch him he says, “Off.”

“Wise guy,” huffs Minsoo. “If we don’t hurry, Jinwook is going to slap you. And maybe Eunbi, too.”

Sooil frowns. “Hey, why me?”

Holding back a smile, Minsoo makes sure that all the lights are off before getting out of the apartment. He pulls out his luggage and says, “Older. More gullible. Stronger.” Sooil is sulking, definitely. “Hyung, let’s go!”

Sooil carries his backpack and rolls his suitcase out the door, letting Minsoo lock it behind him. On the way to the car, the two of them chat aimlessly. The air is getting warmer; it’s no longer winter, but the underlying chill is still there but not unwelcome. They pack the car, baggage secure in the trunk.

“There was one fact, one insult, and one compliment,” Sooil says, referring to Minsoo’s reasoning behind the possibility of getting hit. “Am I supposed to be offended, pleased, or...?”

Minsoo smiles at him. When Sooil starts the car, he says, “Yes.”

“Rude,” huffs Sooil, pouting. “Just for that I won’t let you pick the music in here.”

“Be quiet and drive,” urges Minsoo. He turns on old Shinhwa album, and Sooil is no less than pleased.

The final destination is Jeju Island. The trip has been planned for a while now, although it had mostly been a spur of the moment decision by Sungjun. Along with him and Yein, the other friends coming are Sojung, Eunbi, Wooseok, Jinwook, Sooil, and Minsoo. Everyone else is either busy with work or school, which is a shame. (Gyujin especially loves these kinds of trips, but Changhyun had promised to take him backpacking in Japan next spring, so he’s not complaining.) The weather is going to be perfect on the island, and Minsoo has been looking forward to it ever since they scheduled it. Sooil has shared the same sentiments.

When they arrive at the airport, Minsoo and Sooil drop off their baggage at the check-in and rush through security. (A worker almost brings Sooil into questioning for his bulky carry-on full of towels, but Sooil assures, “Sir, I can get very sweaty. If you don’t believe me, I will gladly demonstrate. Forewarning, it’s disgusting.” Minsoo, along with several others, tell him not to and they’re free to proceed.)

Checking the number on their tickets three times over, Minsoo points them where to go and successfully leads them to their gate. Jinwook and Wooseok are both seated, the latter dozing off with a neck pillow cushioning his head. Sojung is on the phone, close to the window, and Eunbi is standing with her arms crossed. The waiting area is moderately full, mostly with families and couples. Jeju Island is a popular place for an early spring vacation.

Eunbi spots them first, pink lips pursed,  and looks at them sternly. “Congratulations,” she says, “You made us miss our flight.”

Sooil’s face falls. “Shit, this is my fault. I don’t know how I’ll make it up to you guys, but I promise I will not rest until justice is—”

“I’m joking,” Eunbi proclaims, but her face is as stoic as ever. “We have twenty minutes until boarding.” Minsoo is the only one to laugh, but it’s more directed at the incredulous look on Sooil’s face.

“Why is everyone is so _mean_ to me today,” grumbles Sooil, collapsing onto a chair. Jinwook offers him a soda, and he turns him down. “Where’s Sungjun and Yein?” he asks.

“They’re grabbing lunch before the flight,” Jinwook answers. “Yein is pretty nervous. Food calms him down.”

“First time flying,” murmurs Wooseok. “Let’s hope he doesn’t get airsick.” Jinwook elbows him.

Sooil rubs absently at his stomach. “I’m hungry, too. All that hustling,” he says. “I think I’ll grab a burger. Minsoo, do you want anything?”

“French fries,” replies Minsoo. Sooil gives him a short kiss before jogging off, and Minsoo waves. “Thanks, hyung!”

Wooseok is wide awake now as he questions rapidly, “Did my eyes deceive me? When did that happen?” He turns to Jinwook sharply. “Are we out of the loop? We aren’t normally out of the loop. I _like_ the loop.”

It is then, Minsoo realizes, that neither he nor Sooil have told any of their friends that they’ve been dating for the last two weeks. The transition from friends to lovers had been so natural — it never occurred to them to announce it. Then again, Facebook helps with that sort of thing.

“I kind of figured,” Jinwook declares, shrugging. “How long? A week?”

Minsoo nods shyly. “Since March.”

Sojung, who has ended her phone call, remarks, “Minsoo is _very_ obvious, by the way.”

“Hey, I don’t think that’s true!” Minsoo counters. He’s gotten friendlier with Sojung and the other girls, enough to send them emojis for conversations. “How was I obvious?”

“You used to watch him go like he wasn’t coming back for you,” Eunbi proclaims. “Now you stop and wait patiently for him to return. The change is astounding.”

Minsoo is speechless. Had it really been like that? Was he _that_ hopeless? In retrospect, the image is embarrassing.

“She’s perceptive,” Sojung says, pulling Eunbi close and pecking her cheek. Eunbi’s blush is the same tint as her lips. “I love her for it.”

“Still trying to tell if that’s a good thing,” Minsoo murmurs. Remind him never to get on Eunbi’s bad side.

Several minutes later Sungjun, Yein, and Sooil return with their spoils. Sooil kisses Minsoo once he sees him, presenting the container of fries like some kind of prize won by quest. Sungjun’s “ _Whoa_! I missed something!” and Yein’s excited shriek are additions to their current conversation. While they finish their food Minsoo is almost certain Sojung will make Sooil tell Their Love Story™ from day one. She’s as bad as Jinwook, except she has zero qualms about throwing Sooil under the bus.

Sooil is luckily saved by the flight attendants, who tell them to get ready to board. All of them gather their carry-ons and show off their tickets. As they walk through the jet bridge to the plane Yein insists in a shaky voice, “We have to t-talk more about this if w-we land.”

“ _When_ we land,” Sungjun corrects lightly, wincing when Yein reflexively digs his nails into his arm too tight where he’s holding on for dear life. “This is gonna be a long ride...”

Minsoo has the window seat with Sooil beside him, the rest of their friends scattered throughout the plane. He’s helping Sooil adjust his seat when a cheerful voice talks into the speaker.

“ _Hello, everyone! This is your pilot speaking. Fasten those seatbelts because we are now ready for takeoff. Did you wait long_?”

“Long enough,” Sooil sighs, and Minsoo squeezes his hand tightly. They share a smile.

Dreams of professional basketball, an answer to a letter, visions of a first love are all behind him. Now, Minsoo is grateful he can touch the sky with No Sooil. (It’s as close to space as he can get, and he’ll take it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  credit @[cutegyeol](http://cutegyeol.tumblr.com/), follow them for quality up10 content
> 
> my links so u can come & cry w/ me: tumblr, [whateverbroski](http://whateverbroski.tumblr.com/) | ask.fm, [fruti2flutie](http://ask.fm/fruti2flutie)


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